Domestic Dispute
by Mrs.bdp3
Summary: Revised Chapter 7.Hutch is married to a social worker, Jill. When the abusive father of one of her cases holds his family hostage, in the ensuing shootout Hutch is wounded. The domestic dispute case becomes anything but when it opens up a cold case murder
1. Chapter 1

**Domestic Dispute**

_Hutch is married to Jill, a social worker. When the father of a family she has been working with takes his wife and kids hostage, the domestic dispute ends in a shootout, wounding Hutch. But the simple domestic dispute case turns into anything but when it leads into the re-opening of a cold case murder, and the murderer will do anything to keep it shut, including killing Hutch, Jill and Starsky! This story takes place 4 years after the end of the show. Don't own them and I'm not making any money from this._

Chapter 1

Shafts of the morning sun poked their way through the bedroom window and hit Ken 'Hutch' Hutchinson square in the face. Turning his head to avoid the glare, his eyes fell on the still sleeping form of his wife beside him. The sun caught the red highlights in her shoulder length strawberry blond hair spread across the pillow, burnishing them into red flame. He still couldn't believe his good luck in finding Jill. After one failed marriage, he never thought he would marry again. But Jill made it so easy to love her. Hutch reached out and twisted a red-gold strand around his finger. Jill stirred, but didn't wake up so he leaned in to press his lips against her temple. She stirred again and this time her meadow green eyes opened.

"Mmm-good morning-" the smile that Hutch loved spread across her face.

"Good morning, sweets." Hutch leaned over to brush his lips across hers, but before he got that far, he felt claws in the middle of his back. Cleo-short for Cleopatra for her regal bearing- his wife's cat, had climbed on him. She apparently had been in her usual place on the bed, sleeping at Hutch's feet.

"Cleo! Get off!" The gray tortoiseshell cat, startled by his voice, jumped down from the bed. "Damn cat!'

Jill smiled. He didn't really mean it. He pretended to dislike her, but he really didn't. The cat just chose the wrong moment to make her presence known sometimes.

"Now where were we?" Jill could feel his already hard manhood pressing against her bare thigh. His extraordinary sky blue eyes glowed with passion and love as they held hers. Jill had never seen in any other man's eyes what she saw in Ken's. Hutch shifted so his body covered hers and his lips molded to hers in a hungry kiss, his mustache tickling her nose. One hand brushed her thigh as the other one came up to gently squeeze her breast. She gasped.

"Ken Hutchinson, you said I wore you out last night."

"That was last night. I'm a new man this morning. And can I help it if you're so sexy that I can't keep my hands off you?" he nuzzled her neck, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin there.

Just then the phone rang.

"Ignore it." Hutch said over her mouth. But Jill turned her head, causing her husband to groan in disappointment.

"Come on, Hutch, you know we can't do that. We both have jobs that require us to be on call day and night. It could be Dave-or Gretchen-or Captain Dobey."

"If it's Starsky, I'll kill him." Hutch muttered, but he allowed Jill to shift so she could answer the phone on her nightstand. Smiling at the jab to his partner, Jill sat up and reached for the receiver to sweep it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jill, it's Gretchen."

"Hi, Gretch. What's up?"

When Hutch heard it was her boss and not his partner or his boss, he sighed at the inevitability of their fate and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. Jill was treated to a tantalizing view of his taut backside as he walked into the bathroom to take his shower. It was all she could do to keep her mind on what her boss was saying.

"I'm sorry to wake you so early, but there's been a development in the Rogers case. You need to get down here as soon as possible."

"The Rogers case. What happened?"

"Joe is back." Those three words brought Jill back to harsh reality. She was a social worker and Joe Rogers was the abusive husband and father of a family she had been working with.

"Did he go to the house?" Jill had grabbed her robe to wrap around her and was now sitting up on the bed. Cleo had jumped back onto the bed and Jill was stroking her back.

"Yes. A neighbor noticed and called us."

"Oh, my God." Jill closed her eyes against all of the awful pictures that scenario crowded into her mind. The outburst also brought Hutch back into the bedroom. He had wrapped a towel around his waist. She covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, "Joe Rogers is back" to him. Hutch swore under his breath and whispered to her, "How did that happen?" Jill just shrugged, not knowing the answer to the question. Hutch went back into the bathroom.

"O.K. I'll be there in half an hour. Bye, Gretchen."

Jill hung up and scurried into the bathroom where Ken was now standing at the sink, shaving.

"Gretchen didn't know how Joe got there. A neighbor called. I'm guessing he escaped. If he was paroled, I didn't know about it." Jill continued the side conversation started on the phone with her husband.

"Not a chance. We put him away for a long time. Wasn't there an injunction against him to stay away from Molly and the kids?"

Jill nodded. "But you know how effective they are against someone who is determined to get to someone else." she said wryly.

"Yeah, but that also means he has violated the injunction. That's enough to put him back in jail. I'll call Dobey." he went back into the bedroom to make the call. Jill took a quick shower, washed her face and brushed her teeth, then started to walk back into the bedroom, but the big hulk that was Hutch blocked the doorway. "Hon, I really have to get dressed. I told Gretchen I'd be there in half an hour."

"You aren't going." he said flatly.

"Ken, don't start. It's my job."

"No, it isn't. Not any more. It's a police matter now."

"Molly trusts me-Joe, too, to a certain extent. I can talk to them."

"Dammit, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met! You aren't going. Let us handle it, Jill."

"Yes, I am. I can help, Ken, I know I can. I have to do this for Molly and those kids." Jill stood her ground. In their year and a half of marriage, even though they had met through their jobs, their fiercest arguments had always been about the clash sometimes caused by their respective occupations-her social work and his detective/police work.

When she used that kind of logic, Hutch knew he was losing this argument. He slammed his hand on the door jamb. "Dammit, Jill! Let us do our jobs!"

"Dammit, Ken, let me do mine! While we're standing here arguing, Joe could be doing who knows what to Molly and Jake and Allison and Jason and Mary. Do you want that on your conscience? I don't."

She had him there. Hutch pushed a hand through his blond hair.

"All right, but we'll follow you over there. I'll call Starsky-"" After Molly Rogers had finally agreed to press charges against her husband, Hutch and his partner had arrested him and testified against him at his trial.

The mood remained tense between them as Ken and Jill went through their daily routines and dressed. Even Cleo sensed the strain and hid under a table. Silence persisted through breakfast and was only broken when Hutch's dark haired partner Dave Starsky arrived. He bounded in like an overeager puppy when Hutch opened the front door.

"Good morning, good morning." he greeted them, then teased Jill, "Hey, Jill, when are you going to leave this big lug and run away with me?"

"Don't give her any ideas-" Hutch muttered. Then Starsky became aware of the tension between his partner and his wife.

"What's the matter with you two?"

"I'm going to the Rogers'. He disagrees with my decision." Jill gestured over her shoulder at Hutch.

"Well, if I get a vote, I agree with him. From what he told me, this could turn into a dangerous situation."

"Save your breath, Starsk. I've used all of the arguments against it. She's made up her mind."

" I can take care of myself. I'm not arguing with you, too, Dave. We don't have time. I'll see you at the Rogers'".

Without even giving her husband a good-bye kiss, she brushed past the two cops and ran to her Mustang. Jill threw herself in, gunned the engine and backed out of the driveway to take off down the street.

The two men walked to Starsky's car, a red Torino with a white racing stripe, in silence and got in. Silence prevailed as Starsky concentrated on driving and Hutch stewed about Jill.

"One brave lady-" Starsky finally broke the stillness.

"No, Starsk, she isn't." Hutch looked at his partner, his anger rising again. "She's the most bull-headed, impossible woman I've ever met and it's my lot in life to love her. She thinks she's so brave, but she's not. She's so vulnerable. She thinks she can change the world-change people. And I'm the world's biggest fool to let her do this. God, if anything happens to her-if that creep Rogers lays one hand on Jill, I will tear him limb from limb."

"Are you through?" Starsky asked at the end of his partner's rant. "I agreed with you, remember? And just what could you have done to stop her-handcuffed her to a chair?"

"Hey, that's an idea. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I'm joking, Hutch. You know you couldn't do that. So it seems to me the only way through this is to make sure nothing happens to Jill."

"You're right." Hutch scrubbed his face with his hand, then reached out and put his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "Thanks, buddy."

"All right. Now fill me in on what you know about this situation."

"Gretchen called and told Jill that Joe was at the house. A neighbor had called the office. I don't know why they didn't call the police. Joe wasn't paroled so we're guessing he escaped. I called Dobey before I called you. That's all I know. I didn't get any more out of Jill since we started fighting at that point." Hutch pulled a face. "God, I hate fighting with her."

The radio squawked.

"Control to Zebra Three-"

Hutch leaned over and plucked the hand set of the radio up.

"This is Zebra Three. Go ahead." Hutch released the button to listen.

"Shots fired. 734 Segundo Ave."

"That's the Rogers place. " Then another thought hit him at the same time it hit Starsky. "Jill!" They chorused as they looked at each other. As the Gran Torino leaped forward under Starsky's push on the accelerator, Hutch said into the radio, "We're on it."

He put the hand set back and slammed the portable red bubble siren on top of the car as Starsky picked up speed. Hutch tried to push horrible images of his wife lying in a pool of blood as that Rogers creep stood over her out of his mind, but they persisted.

"God, why did I let her go? Can't you go any faster?" he shouted at his partner impatiently.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Starsky shouted back. "This is the city, you know."

Despite Hutch's perception that they were going slow, they pulled into the Rogers' driveway in record time. Jill was nowhere to be seen. Starsky and Hutch rolled out of the Gran Torino and raced over to the nearest uniformed officer.

"What's happening? Where's Jill Hutchinson-the social worker?" Hutch grabbed the surprised uniformed officer by the front of his shirt.

"I don't know anything about a social worker. I guess she's inside. The guy just started shooting."

"Jill!" Hutch let the officer go and started to run toward the house, but Starsky stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "What are you doing? Let me go! Jill's in there. I have to get to her." Hutch was shouting at his partner again as he struggled against Starsky's grasp.

"You're a cop, Hutch, not a husband right now." Starsky replied quietly. He was reminding Hutch of his first duty at the moment. "I can't let you go in there like this. I'll go."

"Ken!" The sweet voice Hutch had been afraid he would never hear again wafted over the still air as Jill emerged from the back of the house and saw him. Hutch bolted away from Starsky's grasp and ran to his wife. He caught her in a bear hug and pressed his lips to hers firmly, then cupped her face in his large hands for a moment as he looked into her green eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Oh, God-I-was-so-worried-" he rained kisses all over her face as he spoke and his hands roamed over her arms and torso to check for any injuries.

"I'm all right. I tried, Hutch, but Joe wouldn't listen. He wouldn't listen to me."

"It's ok, hon. I'm sure you did all you could." Hutch drew her to him again in a reassuring hug. He smiled into her hair. This was so like her: ignoring the dangerous situation she had walked into, all she could think about was her failure to reach Joe. She pulled away and looked at Starsky who had joined them.

"Hi, Dave."

"Hi, yourself. I'm glad you're all right." he enveloped her in a friendly hug. Jill understood from the very beginning of her relationship with Hutch that he and Starsky came as a matched set so she had grown to love Starsky as a dear friend.

Just then the captain of the SWAT team came over to them.

"Mrs. Hutchinson?"

"Yes?" Jill pulled out of Starsky's embrace and turned around to look at the other cop.

"What did you see in there?"

"You were inside?!" Hutch turned on his wife, his anger rising. "And you let her go in there-alone?" he shouted at the SWAT cop.

"Sargeant Hutchinson, she was already there when we arrived and she was not in the house. She was on the back porch. Mrs. Hutchinson, it would be helpful if you could tell me what you saw."

"Joe has them all in the dining room-it's off the living room towards the back of the house. There's a French door between the two. Molly is sitting in a chair. The three older kids are on the floor. Baby Mary is in Molly's lap. They were all crying." In empathy Jill's green eyes filled with tears as she relayed this information. She wiped them away with her sleeve, but they refused to be stymied. Hutch put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in reassurance, his anger gone. She smiled up at him gratefully.

"What kind of weapon did he have?"

"A gun. It wasn't like Hutch's. Smaller." Her husband's gun was her only point of reference when it came to handguns." And I saw a rifle leaning against the china cabinet."

"Was there ammunition?"

Jill shook her head. "I didn't see any. Of course that doesn't mean there isn't."

"Where is Mr. Rogers-in relation to them."

"He's between the two windows on the side." She gestured toward the house. "The kids are right in front of him. If he starts shooting, they'll be the first victims."

The sound of glass breaking and a gunshot rang through the air followed by a taunt from Joe Rogers:

"Hey, cops, I'm still here. Hey, send in that pretty lady social worker again-or better yet, send in that cop husband of hers and his partner-the ones that tried to put me away." he cackled.

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other as a realization dawned on them.

"So that's what this is all about? He used Jill to get to us. We're his real targets." Hutch vocalized what they were both thinking.

"Hutch, that's absurd. I never mentioned I was married to you." Jill protested his theory.

"Obviously he found out." He became angry. "If that's what he wants, then bring him on." Hutch pulled off his coat and shoved it into his wife's arms. "Let's go, Starsky."

"You aren't going in without these--" the SWAT team captain reached into the van and took out two bulletproof vests. Starsky and Hutch tore off their shirts, slipped into the vests and put their shirts back on.

The two men started toward the house. Before they could take a step, another gunshot pierced the stillness of the morning and this one was so close that Jill felt the air around her move as the bullet whizzed past their heads. She screamed in terror as Hutch pushed her to the ground with him. When another shot wasn't forthcoming, the blond man pulled his wife up.

"Get her out of here!" Hutch pushed Jill toward the SWAT van as he and Starsky pulled their guns and, squatting, headed for the house.

Starsky went in low through the front door. He saw Rogers in the living room. Joe fired at him. The bullet went wild. Starsky returned fire, but missed as Joe ducked. Hutch came in from the back, skidding to a stop in the doorway between the living and dining rooms.

"Rogers!"

Joe twisted. He had a clear shot at Hutch. But, before he could fire, Starsky got off two shots. One hit Rogers in the back of the leg, the other went high into his back. Joe went down, but not before two shots boomed from his gun. Horrified, Starsky watched as Hutch jerked from the hits and his upper thigh and left shoulder-out of the range of the protective vest- bloomed with blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The blond man went down, his gun clattering to the floor and he rolled over on his side. He clutched at his shoulder and leg.

"Hutch!" Starsky, his breathing heavy and harsh, rushed over to his partner. He gently turned Hutch over on his back. Scarlet red arterial blood was streaming from Hutch's left thigh.

"Get in here! Officer down! Call an ambulance!" Starsky shouted at the SWAT team. They swarmed in, surrounding Rogers, but Starsky hardly noticed. Dave tore off his jacket, the bulletproof vest and then his shirt. He rolled the latter into a makeshift bandage and pressed it hard against Hutch's thigh wound to try to stay the flow of blood. It blackened quickly-too quickly, Starsky thought, but he continued to hold it there, even though it wasn't doing much good. Blood was oozing through his fingers and splattered on his jeans. "Come on, Hutch! hang in there. You are not going to die on me." Then he spotted Molly, frozen to the spot a few yards away, watching this drama unfold in front of her. "Mrs. Rogers, do you have towels? I need all of the towels you can lay your hands on."

Molly blinked at him as if she was just awaking from sleep. "Molly, get the damn towels! My partner is seriously hurt here!"

She scurried into the kitchen.

Through clenched teeth, Hutch said, "What in the hell happened?" Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm.

"Rogers got you, buddy. I'm here, Hutch." The blond's face was drained of all color from the loss of blood and beads of perspiration were glistening on his forehead. Starsky placed a hand there. It was cold and clammy. Hutch was going into shock. He was also getting weaker by the minute. Hutch looked down at his leg and saw the blood streaming from the wound.

"Oh, my God!" he closed his eyes against the sight, then opened them again and looked at his partner.

"Jill?"

Jill! His wife was here. She must have heard the shots. She was probably frantic with worry, not knowing who had been injured. It had always been just Hutch and him before. Now there was another person in Hutch's life, another person who loved him. But he wasn't about to leave his partner like this. But he knew she had to be told.

"Marty, go out and tell Jill what's going on." Starsky yelled at one of the SWAT team members.

"Who's Jill?" The man didn't have a clue.

"His wife. The social worker that's here. Ask around. Just go, dammit!"

"Hey, buddy, you don't have to shout. Starsky-" Hutch grabbed his partner's arm. His grip was so weak. Starsky felt tears sting his eyes. "Starsky-if anything happens, take care of Jill for me."

"Nothin's gonna happen. Where are those damn towels? Molly!"

The slovenly woman returned to the dining room at his bellow, carrying an armload of towels. She dumped them on the floor beside Dave. He pressed a towel against each of Hutch's wounds. While he pressed down on the thigh wound, he said to another man on the SWAT team, "Come over here and hold this on his shoulder." The man kneeled at Hutch's side and did as he was told. The towel blackened with blood quickly and he placed another towel on top of it.

"Come on, Hutch, hang on-" God, there was so much blood. Too much. Starsky knew if the ambulance didn't get there soon, they might lose Hutch. He wasn't about to let that happen. Hutch couldn't die. If he did, a large piece of Starsky would die with him. Hell, that wasn't true. He might as well die, too. Hutch was his best friend, his partner, closer to him than a brother. They had been through so much together. No wacko with a gun who liked to beat up on his wife was going to end it. Starsky continued to urge Hutch to hang on as he kept placing towel after towel on top of the thigh wound. Hutch finally slipped into blessed unconsciousness, but Starsky was terrified he had succumbed to the loss of blood. "Hutch!" Starsky frantically felt for a pulse at Hutch's neck. It was there, but it was weak and thready.

Starsky barely heard the siren of ambulance in the distance. He was too focused on stopping the streaming blood. He was marginally aware when the paramedics rushed into the house and surrounded them. The SWAT team member who had been tending to Hutch's shoulder wound moved away to give the paramedics room. Then one of them tried to push Dave aside. He didn't go quietly. It took three of the SWAT team guys to pry Starsky from Hutch's side. He fought them every step of the way, kicking and punching at them, so he could go back to Hutch. After they had Hutch on the stretcher, Starsky went back over to his partner and grabbed his hand to squeeze it. There was no answering squeeze. An indescribable pain clutched at Starsky's chest. Jill ran over to them when they came out of the house.

"Ken! Oh, my God!" her face was white as paper. She grabbed Hutch's other hand. When he didn't respond to her touch, she looked at Starsky, terrified, her lips unable to form the words of the question she was afraid to ask.

"He's only unconscious, Jill." Jill now saw the extent of her husband's injuries. They had torn his shirt and a bandage covered the shoulder wound. His cords had also been torn up the inseam to accommodate the bandage on his thigh. Both were soaked with blood. Jill's face went even whiter and Starsky was afraid she was going to faint. He dropped Hutch's hand and circled the stretcher to catch her under the arm.

"You tore his shirt." Jill said to the paramedic in a voice Dave had never heard before. It was distant-almost disembodied. "That was one of his favorite shirts. He loves that shirt. I gave it to him last Christmas." Jill felt a hysterical laugh bubble up inside her and tried to stifle it. It erupted anyway.

"Jill?" Starsky realized what was happening. She was becoming hysterical. "OK, take a deep breath, honey. Take deep breaths. Come on, Jill. It's ok. You can do this."

Jill gulped in several deep breaths as she tried to calm herself.

"She's his wife and I'm his partner. Can we ride in the ambulance with him?" he asked the paramedic.

The paramedic nodded. "We'll take him to Memorial."

Starsky nodded and helped Jill into the ambulance after they had placed Hutch inside.

Jill was at the coffee machine in the emergency waiting room at Memorial Hospital, trying to put money in the slot, but her hands were shaking so hard, she couldn't insert the coins. Starsky, now wearing Hutch's jacket to cover his bare chest, threw the magazine he had been idly leafing through down and moved over to her.

"Here, let me-" Starsky took the coins from her and slid them into the coin slot. He took out the coffee cup and gave it to her. Stasky steered her back toward the waiting room and they both sat down. Jill looked at what the hospital called Hutch's personal effects lying in a bag on the chair next to her. His badge. The loose change from his pocket. His handkerchief. His wallet. His pocket watch. And his wedding ring. She picked it up and tears sprung to her eyes. She'd had it specially made for him. It was a heavy setting-a small square cut diamond surrounded by turquoise. To all outside appearances it was just a man's ring that Hutch just wore on his left hand, but they knew the significance. It had been worth the price she paid for it when she saw the look on his face when she showed it to him for the first time. His blue eyes had lit up—he liked turquoise-and then became misty. He had kissed her soundly and said he would treasure it always. He had not taken it off since she had placed it on his finger on their wedding day.

Jill choked out as she clutched the ring in her hand, " Oh, God , Dave, he can't die. I don't know what I'll do."

"He's not going to die. He's in the best hospital in the city and in the best hands. Besides, he's too damn stubborn to die."

That brought a little smile to Jill's lips, then she sobered. She said in a shaky voice: "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been so pigheaded about going to the Rogers', I wouldn't have walked into Joe's trap and dragged you and Ken in."

"Now stop right there. This is not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

Just then a doctor came out.

"Who's here for Ken Hutchinson?"

"I'm Jill Hutchinson." Jill rose from the chair.

"We're taking your husband up to surgery. We have to stop the bleeding. The bullet in his thigh nicked the femoral artery. He's in very serious condition right now. I'm afraid it's touch and go."

"Oh, God-" Jill's knees buckled and she sat down hard in the chair again. Starsky sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders in support.

"When will you know?" the dark haired man asked, his voice gruff with worry.

"We'll let you know the minute anything happens. Surgery is on second floor if you want to wait in the waiting room up there." The doctor left them. Starsky helped Jill stand up and they walked over to the elevator. They rode it up to second floor and sat down in the waiting room.

Starsky and Jill sat in silence for several moments, then a thought occurred to her.

"Work! I have to call Gretchen." She started to get up, but Dave grabbed her arm and sat her down again.

"I already called her, Jill. She knows the situation. I've told Dobey, too. We're both clear for today."

Again silence reigned for several minutes, then Jill said quietly as she twisted the rings in her wedding set on her left hand, "Ken and I had started talking about having kids, Dave."

"I know. He told me."

"I should have known." she replied wryly. "You guys really do talk about everything, don't you?"

"Pretty much. We're partners. We spend a lot of time in the car, cruising. Have to spend the time somehow." Starksy shrugged. "Does that bother you?"

"No, I'm glad he has a friend like you." Jill grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"So you're sure you really want a little blond Hutch running around?" he teased her, grinning that famous Starsky grin.

"We could have a little red headed Jill, you know." she teased back, then she became serious again. "He's never been hurt this badly the entire time we've been together."

"I know. But he has been in worse situations and come through. When that fiend Forest got him hooked on heroin comes to mind."

"I remember him telling me about that. His living hell, he called it. Tell me how you got him through it."

"Why in the hell would you want to hear that story again?" Starsky couldn't imagine why she would want to hear this, especially since it involved one of Hutch's former girlfriends.

"Like you said, we have to spend the time somehow. Please, Dave."

Starsky realized that Jill didn't really want to hear the story again: she was grasping for something to hold on to right now, a situation that Hutch came through because his situation now was so precarious. So he relayed the story. God, he would never forget holding his partner in his arms as Hutch went through the horrible sweats and pain of heroin withdrawal. It had torn him up to watch his best friend go through that. It still hurt to even tell the story again. That memory opened the floodgates to others when he and Hutch had been there for each other: when Hutch had been run off the road and was pinned beneath his car in a deserted canyon and was seriously injured, when Hutch had been deathly ill with a plague, when Starsky himself was poisoned, when he was shot during a shootout at an Italian restaurant and was seriously injured by a bullet in the back, when he was shot at the police station by two guys dressed up like policemen in a professional hit. By the end there were tears standing in Starsky's blue eyes.

"If he can get through those situations, the blond blintz can get through this." Starsky and Jill clung to each other for several minutes, drawing strength from each other and their mutual love of Hutch.

When Dave's stomach rumbled, he broke away and wiped his eyes.

"I didn't have time to eat breakfast. Did you eat breakfast?"

Jill nodded. "Just one of Hutch's concoctions. I was in a hurry."

Starsky pulled a face at the mention of his partner's breakfast concoctions. Hutch was a health food nut and, in Starsky's opinion, came up with all kinds of weird things to put in a blender for what he called breakfast. Give him cold pizza and root beer any day.

"That's not breakfast. I'll go down to the cafeteria and bring us back some real breakfast."

He left and was back in five minutes flat with two steaming plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and two fresh cups of coffee. Jill hadn't realized how famished she was until she wolfed down the food. It must be the stress of worrying, she thought. Hutch's concoctions were nutritious, but sometimes they weren't very filling. After Dave deposited the empty plates into the trash can, they continued to sip at their coffee while Jill picked up, leafed through and quickly discarded every magazine available and Starsky paced. As Jill threw down the last magazine, she broke the silence.

"Dave, please sit down. You're driving me crazy with that pacing."

"I can't. I have to keep moving." He was already wound up tight from worrying about Hutch and the coffee had just fueled it more. He didn't have any bad guy to chase so pacing seemed a viable alternative. Thinking of the bad guy in this brought Starsky up short. He didn't know how seriously he had injured Joe Rogers: Hutch had been his primary concern after he knew he had disabled Rogers. He did know one shot had been in the leg and he had aimed high for his second shot. Whether he got him in the shoulder or chest, Starsky wasn't sure. Since he had used deadly force to bring Rogers down, there would be a report to write and he would have to account for the shots. "Jill, stay here. I'd better check on Rogers. Dobey will want a report."

"Why? I hope you killed him."

Starsky had never heard Jill sound so bitter. She was the most compassionate person he had ever met. But he understood why she was feeling that way, of course. After all, the man had put her husband in the hospital, fighting for his life. It was natural she would want him dead. Right now she was too worried about Hutch to think straight.

Starsky just nodded In acknowledgment. He moved over to the nurses' station and caught the attention of a pretty young blond nurse. He grinned at her as he pulled out his identification and flashed it. "Hi, I'm Dave Starsky, police."

The nurse grabbed the identification to check it, then said:

"Yes, Sargeant Starsky?"

"Can you check on the condition of a patient for me? Joe Rogers. He came in with gunshot wounds. I'll need it for my report."

The nurse checked the register of patients and replied, "Oh, yes, here he is. Gunshot wounds to leg and shoulder. He's in surgery to remove the bullets. Fair condition. He's expected to recover."

"Thank you very much." Starsky shoved his identification back into his jeans pocket and returned to his seat next to Jill.

"I'm sorry, Dave. I didn't mean that about Joe Rogers. How is he?"

"I got him in the leg and shoulder. He'll be all right. And it's perfectly understandable you would feel that way about him. He shot Hutch."

Jill nodded, unable to speak for the lump in her throat as tears again welled up in her eyes at the possibility that, while Joe Rogers would pull through, Hutch might not. Starsky put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in reassurance he was far from feeling, too. They sat in silence for a long time. After a while, Jill, exhausted from the events of the day, rested her head on Dave's shoulder and fell into a fitful sleep. Starsky glanced over at her, remembering the day this pixie of a woman had walked into their lives--and stolen Hutch's heart. He and Hutch had taken a little girl from her mother and Jill had come over from Children's Services to pick her up. The partners had still been desk bound about a year and a half after the Gunther shooting while Starsky was waiting to be cleared by the doctor for street duty again. After spending most of his time looking at his partner's mug during that time, it wasn't any wonder to Starsky that Hutch had fallen quickly for a much prettier face. Dave smiled at the memory of Hutch even stammering over his name 'Hutch-Hutchinson'. Jill still teased him about that, using it occasionally. Jill was not a stunning woman outside like so many Hutch had dated-she was more cute than beautiful-but she was a beautiful person. He had liked her immediately, too, and they had quickly become a threesome-or a foursome with whoever Starsky was dating at the time. Jill fit right into their relationship and had become a good friend to him while she was becoming more and more important to Hutch. Starsky never brought up the similarity in her name with Hutch's lost love Gillian. The partners had spent many an hour in their car talking as Hutch worked out his fear of marrying again after his failed marriage to Vanessa and had finally worked up the courage to ask Jill to be his wife. Starsky smiled as he remembered that day eight months after they had met. Hutch had been so scared. When Jill said yes, he kept asking her if she was sure. Starsky had never seen his partner so happy as he had been since he had met and married Jill and that made him happy. All because of this sweet woman who had touched both of their lives. Dave smiled and closed his eyes, too. God, waiting was as tiring as the worrying. He drifted off to sleep.

Captain Harold Dobey, Starsky and Hutch's boss, lumbered off the elevator and walked into the surgery waiting room. It was now lunchtime and he had decided to come down to get the latest news on Hutch. He had a soft spot in his heart for the two men, 'his boys', even though they sometimes irritated the hell out of him for their cavalier attitude toward reports and rules. Dobey smiled when he saw Starsky and Jill sleeping on the sofa, Starsky's arm still around Hutch's wife in protection. Hutch's two biggest fans, he thought. If anyone could pull Hutch through this, the love these two people had for him could. Captain Dobey moved over to the nurses' station.

"Hello, I'm Captain Harold Dobey, police." he held up his identification for the nurse to see. "What is Sargeant Hutchinson's status?"

The nurse checked the patient register. "He's still in surgery, Captain."

"Thank you."

Dobey went over to the sofa and gently shook Starsky's shoulder. "Dave?"

"Huh? What? Hutch?!" Starsky was immediately alert. Of course his movement woke Jill up, too, and Dave became aware of a prickling in the arm he'd had around her: it had fallen asleep. "Ow-my arm." He rubbed it as he looked up and saw the Captain. "Cap'n, what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come down and check on Hutch. It's lunchtime."

"It is?" Starsky glanced at his watch. It read a little after noon. No wonder his arm hurt: he and Jill had been asleep for about two and a half hours. "So it is. What is the word on Hutch?"

"They said he's still in surgery."

"What is taking them so long?" Jill suddenly exploded in anger, her frustration getting the best of her.

Just then the same doctor who had told them Hutch was going into surgery came out of the OR, taking off his mask. He walked over to them.

"How is he, Doctor?" Jill asked. She couldn't tell from the look on the doctor's face whether it was good or bad news.

"He made it through the surgery, but he's not out of the woods yet. He lost a lot of blood. The next few hours will be critical. His condition is still serious, Mrs. Hutchinson. But, on the plus side, your husband seems to be in excellent physical condition. That could go a long way in his healing."

"You mean those concoctions he drinks, the water fasts and the jogging actually do some good?" Starsky said wryly.

"Whatever he does to stay in shape, yes."

"Can I see him, Doctor?" Jill asked.

"He's in recovery, but he's still unconscious. He won't know you're there, Mrs. Hutchinson."

"Yes, he will."

The doctor looked at Starsky who shrugged his shoulders. "She's his wife." Dave said simply.

"All right. We're taking him up to a room. He'll be on fourth floor-room 414. Give us a few minutes and I'll let you see him. But only for a few moments."

Jill, Dave and Captain Dobey took the elevator up to the fourth floor and sat down in the waiting room. Another waiting room, Jill thought. More waiting-and worrying. When was it going to end? She sighed. _You better get used to it, Jill Marie, she told herself. This is what being married to a cop is going to be like. _Jill almost wished her grandmother was still alive: her grandfather had been a cop, too, and she could commiserate with her.. Starsky took her hand, as if he understood. She looked at him. His face was ashen and contorted with worry. Jill knew this was as hard on him as it was on her-more, since he had known Hutch so much longer than she had. They were best friends-partners-brothers in blue, closer than brothers. Sometimes she envied their relationship, envied the fact that Dave knew Hutch so much better than she did. From years of friendship, they had their own inside jokes, their own way of teasing each other, even their own language, it seemed, their own way of speaking without words. All of which she would never be a part, no matter how long she was with Hutch.

Soon the doctor came out and directed Jill down the hall to Hutch's room. Starsky started to follow her, but the doctor stopped him.

"No, Sargeant Starsky. Only one of you at a time."

"I'm sorry, Dave-" her voice was filled with regret. "Next time, huh?"

"Yeah. it's all right. You are his wife. You have priority over me." Jill moved down the hall and disappeared into Hutch's room, leaving Starsky staring longingly after her. A brief pang of jealousy stabbed at the dark haired detective. This was the first time Hutch had been seriously wounded since he had married Jill. Someone else had precedence over him in Hutch's life now. It could still be 'me and thee' on the job, but in his private life it was thee and Jill and me . It was going to take some getting used to. The partners had always been there for each other before. But Dave found he couldn't hold on to the resentment. He knew Jill well enough to know she would never lord this over him. She was too kind for that.

But Hutch couldn't die. Starsky could not even imagine life without his partner. His best friend. Even though they were as different as day and night, they were soulmates. They fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, worked together like a well oiled machine. He couldn't imagine working with another partner, even though he knew Dobey would assign one to him, if Hutch died. No! He had a partner: Hutch. Starsky scrubbed his face with his hand. Hutch could be dying and there was nothing he could do about it. There was only so much the body could take when it was assaulted by bullets. He had learned that the hard way himself four years ago when he almost died from three plugs in his own body. Dave dropped down into a chair and closed his eyes.

Jill moved over to the bed where Hutch lay, hooked up to machines, tubes going into different parts of his body, I-V's in his arm. His face was drained of all color and his beautiful icy blue eyes were closed. He was lying so still. His muscular frame shrank against the whiteness of the sheets, making him look like a small boy, despite the fact that he was over six feet tall.

"Ken, I'm here." she leaned over and smoothed his blond hair back, then kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, Ken Hutchinson." Jill choked on his name as her throat closed up with tears. He was so still: the only clue that he was still alive the beep of the heart monitor as it jumped with every beat of his heart. Jill laid her head down on the bandage on his shoulder and stayed there, murmuring her husband's name over and over.

A red headed nurse opened the door and said quietly, "I'm sorry. That's long enough."

But Jill didn't move. The nurse moved over to the bed and gently laid her hand on her arm. "Mrs. Hutchinson? I'm sorry, but you have to leave now. He needs his rest."

"No! I want to stay with him!" With an adrenaline surge, she pushed the nurse away. " Don't you understand? Hutch wants me to stay with him. He told me to stay." In her distraught mind, she was assigning to Hutch things he couldn't possibly have said.

"He's unconscious, Mrs. Hutchinson. He can't talk."

Jill blinked as if awakening from sleep, then when the nurse's words sank in, she sagged against her and started to cry. "I'll take you out to your friend."

The nurse steered Jill out and they returned to the waiting room. Dave took one look at Jill's tear-stained face and asked:

"What happened?" A coldness settled around his heart. Oh, God, had Hutch died? Was there not going to be a next time when he could see Hutch? No, this couldn't be happening.

"No, Sargeant Hutchinson is the same. Mrs. Hutchinson became upset when I asked her to leave. She said her husband had asked her to stay. When I told her he was still unconscious, she started crying. I thought you might be able to calm her down."

Dave's relief was palpable. He took Jill's arm and gathered her to him to tuck her red gold head under his chin. "It's okay, honey. It's okay." he continued to whisper reassurances to Jill. Finally he managed to get her calmed down enough to settle down in the chairs again. They sat in silence for the most part, but when they did speak, the conversation was sporadic and trivial, both of them trying to ignore the worry that was still present like an elephant in the room. The doctor's words, "He's not out of the woods yet" still echoed in Jill's mind. Captain Dobey sat with them for a while, then looked at his watch and stood up. He glanced over at Jill.

"Since it sounds like you'll be here a while, I'll run out to your place and get some things. I'll take Edith with me. She'll know what to pack."

"And there's a book I just started on my nightstand. And please feed Cleo and give her water. I didn't have time to do that this morning."

"What about you, Starsky? You need anything from home?"

"Just a change of clothes, I guess. I've already lost one shirt today." he looked down at the leather jacket covering his bare chest. "Maybe you'd better bring two."

"Right. I'll be back later this afternoon." Dobey pulled Starsky aside. "Starsky, take all of the time you need here. I'll take you off the roster."

"Thanks, Cap'n."

"And let me know if anything happens."

"I will." The two men clasped hands, then Dobey left., There were now new magazines for Jill to look at while Starsky just sat and stared into space. The doctor's words, 'He's not out of the woods yet' were not lost on him. While he was relieved Hutch had made it through the surgery, he was still weighed down with worry that Hutch still not make it. Starsky went over the scene in the Rogers' house in his mind again, trying to remember every detail for the report he knew he had to write. This wasn't fair. He would have gladly taken those bullets for Hutch. He was still young-he and Jill wanted to have kids. They should have that chance. Of course nothing about their jobs was fair. There was always some wacko out there with a gun or poison, bent on revenge against him or Hutch. Suddenly Dave felt very tired. Even though he had slept this morning, it really hadn't been very restful sleep. And after a late night last night, Hutch's early morning call had cut short his regular sleep. God, it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since that urgent call this morning. Had it really only been-he checked his watch-eight hours ago? Dave leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

Jill threw down the magazine she wasn't the least bit interested in and sighed. This interminable waiting was just as bad as the worrying. Well, at least she had seen Hutch, talked to him, told him she loved him. Even though he had been unconscious, somehow she knew he had heard her. No matter what happened now, she'd at least had the chance to do that. Jill glanced over at Dave and smiled when she saw he was sleeping again. Or was it just resting his eyes? She knew if the doctor came out with any news, he would be immediately alert. Her attention wandered to the TV set above the bank of chairs opposite her. After a while Jill's eyes became heavy, too, and she closed them. She fell into a restless sleep.

"Mrs. Hutchinson?" An urgent hand shook Jill's shoulder.

"Wha?" Jill opened her eyes and looked up into the face of same nurse that had been attending Hutch. "Hutch? What happened?"

"The doctor wanted me to tell you that they had to take Sargeant Hutchinson back into surgery. He started bleeding again."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_This chapter contains my first very awkward attempt at writing song lyrics. Please be gentle._

"Oh, my God-" Jill's heart fell to her feet. Starsky heard her outburst and, like she had predicted, he was immediately awake again.

"What happened?"

"They've taken Hutch back into surgery. He started bleeding."

Now there was no rest for either one of them. He put his arm around her while Jill chewed on her bottom lip as tears filled her eyes again. This just showed how precarious Hutch's condition still was. Suddenly all of the worry and the fright overwhelmed Jill. She started shaking uncontrollably as hysterical laughter rose again in her throat.

"Come on, Jill, don't go off on me now. Take deep breaths, honey. Deep breaths. Come on." Jill tried, but this time Dave's cure didn't work. He gathered her to him, threading his fingers through her red gold hair as she buried her face in the soft material of his coat, Hutch's coat. She smelled the unique scent of her husband. Listening to the beating of Dave's heart under her ear. Something normal in her world that had so quickly been turned upside down again. He whispered reassurances as she tried to compose herself, "Come on, honey, deep breaths. It's gonna be ok."

Finally Jill managed to settle down enough to pull away from Starsky and look into his indigo blue eyes.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." she gave him a weak smile. "Yes, I do. I'd be a puddle on the floor." Her green eyes shone with tears and her gratitude.

"Hey, that's what friends are for." he gave her his famous lopsided grin.

They sat in virtual silence for the next two hours. Starsky held Jill's hand as much to comfort her as for him to hang on to something tangible connected to Hutch in this uncertain time. He managed to relax a little--well, as much as he could relax. Over the years he and Hutch had developed instincts about each other. They had a bond that melded them together-almost like twins. He was going on those instincts now and they were telling him that Hutch wasn't dead.

Later that afternoon Captain Dobey lumbered off the elevator, carrying a gym bag and a paper bag. He walked over to Starsky and Jill.

"Here's your-" he took one look at their faces and knew something was wrong. "What happened?" He braced himself for the worst.

"They had to take Hutch back into surgery. He started bleeding again." Starsky replied. "But he's gonna be ok, Cap'n."

Captain Dobey nodded, trusting Starsky's instincts when it came to his partner. He had no reason to doubt them. They had been accurate too many times when one of them had been in danger.

"I brought your change of clothes and your book, Jill." he set the gym bag down next to her. Tears stung her eyes as she recognized it as Hutch's, the one he always took to Vinnie's when he worked out. Captain Dobey's kind brown eyes told her he knew the significance of the bag, too. He had purposely brought a little bit of Hutch to her. "And here's yours, Starsky." he held out the paper bag to the dark haired man. "Don't you own a suitcase? This paper bag was the only thing I could find to put your shirts in."

"Don't need one. Don't go anywhere. I'm a slave to my job." Dave replied, briefly his usual cocky self.

"Uh-huh. So does that mean I can expect your report on this on my desk by tomorrow morning?" Dobey shot back.

Before Starsky could reply, the doctor came out into the waiting room. Again Jill couldn't read his face. These doctors were experts at poker faces, she thought.

"He came through again, Mrs. Hutchinson. However, we are now concerned about something else. He still hasn't regained consciousness. We expected him to come out after this last surgery."

"Oh, dear God. You mean he's in a coma?" Jill asked in a choked voice, her face blanching. She grabbed Dave's hand and held it tight.

"We are not characterizing it as a coma-yet."

"Then what are you characterizing it as?" Starsky asked, anger tinging his voice. Why did these doctors pussyfoot around with semantics? If Hutch was in a coma, then call it a coma. At least then they would know what they were up against. They could deal with it.

"Unconsciousness, Sargeant Starsky. There is a difference. This unconsciousness isn't profound enough to be classified as a coma."

"Then you expect him to come out of it at some point?" Jill asked hopefully.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Or, as Sargeant Starsky has said, he could lapse into a coma. We just don't know at this point. I'm sorry."

"When will you know, Doc?"

"It's hard to tell with these kind of cases. It could be tonight. It could be tomorrow. I'll let you know either way."

The doctor left the waiting room, leaving Starsky, Jill and Dobey to deal now with another crisis in what seemed to be a continuous line of them. More waiting, but with another twist. Wake up, Ken, wake up, Jill tried to will him awake from a distance. Dinnertime came and went. Dave and Jill survived on candy from a nearby machine and coffee, neither one of them wanting to leave the waiting room to go down to the cafeteria to get regular food. Around nine o'clock, she caught the red headed nurse.

"Can I go in and sit with him?" she asked. "I want to be in there--when he wakes up."

The nurse hesitated. "I don't know, ma'am. Let me ask the doctor if it's all right." The nurse couldn't help but admire this woman's confidence that her husband was going to wake up. There were no guarantees of that: she had seen it too many times. She called the doctor that had been attending Hutch on the intercom to pick up on line 3 and asked him Jill's question. The doctor said it was fine. When the nurse relayed this to Jill, she asked another question: "Can Dave go in, too?"

"No, Jill, you go. You're his wife. I'm just his partner."

"You are more than his partner, David Starsky. You know it and I know it. Now come with me."

So the nurse went back to the phone and paged the doctor again to ask him the second question. The doctor agreed and Jill and Dave went into Room 414 to plant themselves in the plastic chairs for a long night's vigil.

God, he hated hospitals, Starsky thought as he tried to get comfortable in another uncomfortable chair. The smell of disinfectant, the sound of machines monitoring and sometimes taking over bodily functions. He glanced over at Hutch. His usually strong, vital partner looked so weak, so _helpless_ lying there in the bed. His blond hair was matted to his head. He was so pale-even for him, he grimaced wryly at his small joke at his partner's Nordic heritage. Starsky began to wonder if maybe the doctors had missed something. For all intensive purposes he looked like he was sleeping, except for the fact that he wasn't snoring. That thought brought a humorless smile to his face. His partner could snore up a storm. The heart monitor continued to beep, but Hutch was lost in the netherworld of unconsciousness.

Come on, Hutch, wake up, Starsky urged. Fight back. Don't give in to this. Don't let the bad guy win. Jill and me are waiting. Come back to us. You've rested enough.

Starsky's reverie was broken then by the soft sound of...music? What the hell? Dave saw Jill on the other side of Hutch's bed. She was leaning over him, softly singing. It took a moment before Starsky recognized the song. Hutch had written a beautiful ballad for her for their wedding and sang it for the first time at the reception.

_Your kisses warm me like a fire on a cold Minnesota night_

_To wake up__ next to you in the early morning light_

_The sunshine of your smile lights up your face and brightens my day_

_I _lay_ in the safety of your arms when the world out there is too much to take_

_To you I pledge the rest of my life_

_To you I give the best of my life_

_I never thought I'd find a song as wonderful as you._

He could see Hutch sitting on the sofa, in their apartment, strumming his guitar as he again professed his love for his wife in the sing-along quiet evenings they had every once in a while. Tears stung Dave's blue eyes as he rose from the chair and moved over to stand by Jill. He put his arm around her.

"Singing him out of it?" he asked softly as he gave her that famous lopsided Starsky grin. "I wouldn't have thought of that."

"He loves music. I should have his guitar-" her voice broke and she couldn't go on. Starsky squeezed her shoulders and leaned down to lay his dark head against her red gold one.

"I know. I bet he can hear you." he whispered.

"Do you think so?" Now Jill's eyes welled with tears and she turned into Dave's arms. Her green eyes looked up at him. "Dave, we can't end this soon. I guess I'm finding out what it's like to be a cop's wife, aren't I?"

"I guess you are. And you're doing good so far. We just have to keep believing he's gonna be all right." They held each other for several moments, their tears mingling, the love they both had for the man lying in the bed overwhelming them, giving strength to each other, channeling some of that strength to Hutch. Dave pulled away first and steered Jill back to the chair where she had been sitting.

"Come on, let's try and get some rest." he sat her down and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"I'll try, but I don't think I will." But she couldn't suppress a yawn. Starsky went back to his chair and sat down again, too. Soon both of them have fallen into a restless sleep.

About seven o'clock the next morning Jill woke to the strange sensation of someone watching her. At first she thought it was the nurse attending to Hutch. Then she turned her head and her husband's sky blue gaze met hers. He smiled weakly.

Hi, Jill-"

Those were the most beautiful words he could ever say to her, she thought. "You're awake! Oh, my God!" Jill leaped from the chair and ran over to Hutch's side. "Oh, Ken, thank God! The doctor said-oh, never mind. You're awake!" She grabbed his hand, leaning over to shower kisses all over his face as she laughed and cried at the same time. "I love you, Ken-"

He raised his good arm arm to cup her cheek with his hand and caressed it. "Love you, too-" He didn't have the strength, though, to keep his arm up. It dropped back to his side. Jill felt tears sting her eyes. He was still so weak.

"Starsk?" Hutch managed to ask in a raspy hoarse whisper.

"Right here, Blintz. Been here the whole time." Starsky moved over to the other side of the bed and took his partner's other hand in his. Hutch turned his head to look at him. The blond man gave Starsky a weak smile, then managed in that raspy whisper: "Thanks-"

"Hey, I had your back. You were supposed to duck, though, you big lummox-"

"Sorry. Didn't have time." Their locked eyes conveyed in that secret code they had developed over the years all they needed to say, all of the feelings they had for each other. Their gaze remained locked for a long moment, edging out the whole world, even Jill. But she didn't mind at all.

"Rogers?" Hutch asked.

"I got him in the leg and shoulder. He'll pull through. We got Molly and the kids out safely." Dave gave him an update on the situation. He also noticed that Hutch's eyes had closed again. "Hutch?" When his partner didn't open his eyes, he said, more urgently, "Hutch!" His blue eyes flew to the heart monitor beside Hutch's bed, scared to death he would see a straight line, but it beeped steadily along with every one of Hutch's heartbeats.

The blond man's icy blue eyes fluttered open briefly as he mumbled, "Still here. So tired."

"Okay. We'll leave you to rest. Bye, buddy." the dark haired man squeezed Hutch's shoulder.

"I love you, Ken-" Jill leaned down to kiss him.

"Love you-" he echoed, then closed his eyes again.

Jill followed Dave out of the room. The doctor was coming in.

"The nurse told me he's conscious. That is good news. Why don't you two go get something to eat while I examine him? I'll let you know what I find."

Dave and Jill hadn't realized how hungry they were until they arrived in the cafeteria and wolfed down breakfast and coffee. When they returned to the fourth floor, the doctor was waiting for them, for once a smile plastered to his face.

"I think he's out of the woods now. All of his vital signs are good. He needs rest-you saw how weak he was-but I'm upgrading him to good condition. Go home. Get some rest yourselves."

"You're sure he's okay?" Jill asked anxiously, not quite believing after the roller coaster ride of the past twenty-four hours, it was all over.

"Yes, Mrs. Hutchinson." he patted her hand. "I will call if anything happens, but I don't expect any complications. Go home and rest. I'll give you a prescription for some sleeping pills if you feel you need them."

He took a pad out of his pocket and scribbled out a prescription, then tore it off and gave it to her.

"I'll take you, if you want, Jill. If you don't want to face your apartment alone."

"Thanks, Dave. " Then a thought hit her. "We don't have cars here, remember? We came in the ambulance from the Rogers'. We'll have to go back there." A shadow crossed Jill's face at the thought of returning to the scene where Hutch had been shot.

"No, you don't." Captain Dobey came up to them at that moment and heard them talking. "I sent some uniforms out there to get your cars. They're both in the parking lot. So I take it Hutch is out of the woods?"

"The doctor's upgrading him to good condition. He's gonna be ok, Cap'n." Starsky told his superior.

"That is good news. There's more, Jill. Molly and the kids are in a shelter and Rogers is in custody. Of course now the charges include not only kidnapping and firearm charges, but attempted murder of a police officer. This guy is going away for a long time." Captain Dobey addressed the dark haired detective. "Starsky, after you take Jill home, I expect you back at the precinct. You have a report to write. It needs to be on my desk this afternoon. The chief is on my back about this. And you did use deadly force against Rogers. You have to account for that."

"All right, all right. I'll be there." Captain Dobey had to hide a smile. He knew how much both Starsky and Hutch hated the paperwork that went along with their jobs, but that was one thing he couldn't let them shirk. On the streets he let them get away with using unorthodox methods that most captains wouldn't put up with because they got the job done. Then Dobey's voice softened. "When you get finished with it, I'll take you off the roster for today so you can come back to the hospital to be with Hutch." He knew that would make his ordering Starsky to the precinct more palpable.

"Thanks, Cap'n." Dave grinned, then he said to Jill: "So you want to ride with me or take your own car?"

"I guess we should both take our cars since we'll both need one."

"Then do you want me to follow you?"

"Dave, you don't have to come after me. I'll be okay."

"You sure?" His indigo blue eyes were filled with concern for her.

"I'm sure. You go home after you finish at the precinct. I'll see you back here this afternoon, ok?" Jill grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Okay. But if you need anything, you let me know." he squeezed back and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

They both left the hospital and found their cars in the parking lot, just like Dobey said they would be.

Starsky drove to the precinct. Many of their fellow cops offered him good wishes for Hutch's recovery—news traveled fast—and he sat down at his desk to type up his report of the incident yesterday, using his notes as reminders. Every once in a while his gaze fell on his partner's desk-that silly piggy bank sitting on the corner. He couldn't even remember now why Hutch had put it there in the first place. He smiled through tears stinging his eyes. Hutch, we've come through another crisis, buddy. You'll be ok and you'll be back with us soon. Starsky finished the report and knocked on Captain Dobey's door.

"Come in-"

Starsky opened the door and walked into the office. "Here you go, Cap'n-all finished."

"Shut the door behind you, Starsky." Dobey said quietly before Dave could lay the report on his desk.

Starsky knew that tone. It always preceded bad news. Fear clutched at Dave's heart. Had something happened to Hutch?

"Hutch?" he asked, his blue eyes searching the captain's dark ones while a worried frown creased his face.

"No. The hospital hasn't called. Rogers escaped."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What do you mean he escaped?" Anger arose in Starsky now. "How the hell did that happen?"

"When they were transferring him to the prison hospital. He got away. He can't go far, Starsky. Not with that leg wound you gave him. We'll get him."

"Damn well better." Then a thought occurred to him. "Hutch! What if he goes to the hospital to finish off Hutch? Or Jill?"

"I'll get someone on Hutch." Captain Dobey picked up the phone. Starsky was already out the door. He ran out into the hallway and down the stairs to the parking lot. He threw himself into the Torino and took off.

Jill walked into the two bedroom apartment she shared with Hutch and put down the duffel bag and bag holding the prescription the doctor had given her. God, it was so quiet. Too quiet. She hadn't realized before how her husband filled this place when he was in it just by his presence there. They had found the new place shortly before they were married. They had agreed they wanted to find a new apartment that could be 'theirs' instead of one of them moving into 'his' or 'hers.' It was about a half mile from Dave's apartment, a second floor apartment in a three story apartment complex. The living room and eat-in kitchen formed an "L". Hutch had transplanted his greenhouse from his apartment at Venice Place to a small porch off the back of the kitchen. She had added her plants to the collection in the apartment. There was a short hallway off the living room that lead to the master bedroom, the smaller bedroom which doubled as an office for both of them and a half bath. The larger bathroom was off the master bedroom. Jill busied herself, unpacking the duffel and straightening up. Cleo demanded some attention then so she played with the cat and petted her. Then she made out a grocery list, then she scanned the refrigerator for fixings for a sandwich and poured herself a glass of milk. Jill crossed into the living room and sat down on the sofa, putting her plate and glass down on the coffee table. As she took a bite of her sandwich, her eyes fell on Hutch's guitar, still leaning against the end table where he had left it three nights ago after they had an impromptu sing along with Dave and his latest flame, Ellen. Tears stung her eyes, but a smile played around her lips as she remembered singing to Hutch last night. Their love of music was one of the many mutual interests they shared. She loved singing with Hutch, her contralto voice mixing with his clear tenor. Starsky could carry a tune, but he didn't have Hutch's smooth voice. However, he always joined in so exuberantly. There had been many a night when she found Ken out here or in the greenhouse, strumming his guitar after she had awakened and noticed his side of the bed empty. It relaxed him after a busy day of chasing bad guys, he told her. Better than a sleeping pill. She put her sandwich down and reached over to pick up the guitar. She couldn't play it, but just holding it brought her closer to Hutch while he was still in the hospital.

Suddenly there was a mad thumping on the front door.

"Jill! It's Dave! Let me in!"

Jill put down the guitar and rushed over to the door to open it. Dave pushed past her and slammed the door behind him.

"What is going on?"

"Rogers escaped." he was checking all of the windows, looking for any sign of anything amiss.

"Oh, my God! What happened?" She blanched at this news.

"He got away when they were transferring him to the prison hospital."

"And you think he'd come here?"

"He might-or get to Hutch to finish him off."

"Then we've got to get back to the hospital." Jill started for the door.

"Dobey sent over some uniforms. Hutch is safe. Still sleeping. I just checked before I came up here."

The phone rang, startling both of them. Jill moved over to the phone and picked up the receiver to sweep it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Jill? It's Captain Dobey. We just recaptured Rogers. Tell Starsky it's all clear."

"Oh, thank God. Thanks, Captain. 'Bye."

Jill hung up. "They got Joe. Dobey says it's all clear." Jill dropped to the sofa, trying to calm herself down after this latest scare. Dave nodded in acknowledgment, then crossed over to the sofa and sat down beside her. "Why did you think Joe would come here?"

"You were part of the situation yesterday. In his twisted mind hurting you would hurt Hutch. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? I didn't even know I was in any danger until you came pounding on my door like a madman." she teased him.

"Yeah, well, sorry." he spotted the sandwich and milk on the table. "Were you eating lunch?"

"Just about to. Do you want a sandwich? I think there's a beer left in the 'fridge, too ."

"Do you have pastrami or has Blondie replaced everything with tofu?" Dave asked, his face breaking into a grin.

"Blondie doesn't do the grocery shopping any more, remember? And I don't like tofu. One pastrami sandwich coming up." She rose from the sofa and moved over to the kitchen to fix the sandwich, then took the last beer out of the 'fridge and returned to the living room. Jill found Dave now strumming Hutch's guitar. He looked up and smiled at her as she put the sandwich and beer down in front of him.

"It does bring us closer to him, doesn't it?" he indicated the guitar as tears welled up in his indigo eyes.

"Yes, it does." Jill's green eyes were misty, too. They ate their lunch and talked. When they finished eating, Jill picked up the plates and her glass to move over to the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink. She'd deal with them later. All of a sudden Jill yawned several times in a row, suddenly very sleepy from the latest scare and just the last two days. Starsky looked at her and for the first time noticed the black smudges under her eyes and her drawn, pale face. Dave steered her toward the master bedroom.

"Ok, bedtime for you, little girl. I'll take the sofa."

"No, Dave, you don't have to babysit me." she protested. "You haven't even been home yet. Go home. I'll see you at the hospital later."

"Today was the second time Rogers escaped in two days. He could do it again, Jill. I promised Hutch. I'm not going anywhere. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

""kay, I'm not going to argue with you." she let Dave sit her down on the bed. Jill knew that once a promise was made between her husband and this man, it was ironclad. Both of them were honor-bound to keep it.

"Wouldn't do any good if you did." Starsky replied as he pushed her down and swung her feet up so she was now lying on the bed. He covered her up with an afghan and he went back out into the living room to lay down on the sofa. Soon he was fast asleep.

Jill was not so lucky. She was exhausted, but sleep didn't immediately claim her. This bed felt so big without Hutch lying beside her. She was so used to having him curl up next to her, his loving arms wrapped around her as she fell asleep. Her thoughts went back to the previous morning when she had felt his gentle hands on her. She should have listened to him and ignored the phone. Then she would have more pleasant memories of yesterday rather than the guilt that suddenly overwhelmed her. Hutch was in the hospital because of her. If she hadn't been so pig-headed about going to the Rogers, Ken wouldn't have even been in that house to get shot. This was all her fault. Jill softly cried herself to sleep.

Jill woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. She turned over and landed on Cleo who had been sleeping next to her. The cat let out a protesting 'meow', then jumped down from the bed. Jill reached for the receiver and swept it up to her ear.

"Hello?" she said tentatively, half expecting it to be the hospital with bad news about Hutch.

"Hi, Jill-" her boss' voice floated over the line. Jill suddenly realized she hadn't called Gretchen this morning to tell her she wouldn't be in the office today, either. Between the excitement of Ken waking up and the scare with Joe Rogers, she had completely forgotten.

"Oh, my God, Gretchen. I'm so sorry. I didn't call you about today, did I?"

"No. But I figured you were still with Ken. How is he doing?"

"Still weak, but he's gonna be okay."

"I'm glad to hear that. So when do you expect you'll be back at work?"

Jill pinched the bridge of her nose as Dave came into the bedroom. He had obviously heard the phone. His dark hair was still mussed from sleep. He was carrying his blue sneakers. His t-shirt was half in-half out of his jeans. He looked like a small boy. Jill couldn't help but smile at the picture he made. But she could also see his body was tense as he mouthed:

"The hospital?"

Jill shook her head and mouthed back: "Gretchen."

Dave nodded in acknowledgment and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. Jill's attention went back to her boss. "I don't know at this point. I don't know how much after care Hutch is going to need, even though I'm sure it will involve some physical therapy for his leg. Dave and I were just going back to the hospital. I'll ask the doctor."

"Just let me know. That's all I ask, Jill. You know how things pile up around here."

"I know. I promise I'll call in from now on. "Bye, Gretchen."

Jill hung up the phone and she and Dave left the apartment.

Hutch was still sleeping when Jill and Dave walked into his room at the hospital after telling the uniformed officer outside the door who they were. Jill noticed the color in his face was coming back and the lines of pain she had noticed before were smoothed out. She was very relieved to see that. There was also a bouquet of flowers and an African violet on the credenza in the room. Jill crossed over to them and looked for the cards The one for the flowers read "from the boys at the Metro" and the other one for the violet read "Huggy".

"Who are they from?" Dave asked, nodding toward the greenery. Jill told him. He smiled at the kind gestures. Jill moved over to the bed and picked up her husband's right hand and leaned over to brush her lips across his forehead.

"Ken?" she said softly. There was no response for a moment, then slowly his eyes fluttered and his sky blue eyes opened. He smiled weakly at her.

"Hi, hon-"

"Hi 'Hutch-Hutchinson." her teasing name of the first time they met brought a slight smile to his lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck." he whispered in that still raspy voice. His eyes fluttered shut again. He could barely keep them open for any length of time-both from his weakened state and the medications coursing through his veins now. "Starsk?"

"Right here, Hutch.," Starsky came up beside Jill and put a hand on his partner's shoulder. Hutch's eyes opened again and he saw something in Starsky's face. The instinct honed over their many years together told him that something had happened while he was asleep and Starsky was worried about it.

"What's wrong, Starsk?"

"Nothin-" Dave tried to hide his nagging worry about Rogers escaping again after the second attempt this morning. But Hutch had known him far too long for him to hide anything from the blond man.

"What happened?" Hutch's voice became stronger and, fighting the almost irresistible urge to close his eyes again-to give in to the effects of the medication- he reached up to try to grab the front of Dave's T-shirt, but failed miserably. All of his strength went into his voice as he raised it even higher. "Tell me what happened!"

"Come on, Ken. Don't get so worked up, You need to rest." Jill tried to deflect her husband's anger toward his partner. And try to talk some sense into him.

"Dammit! Tell me !" Finding new strength from somewhere, Hutch pounded his fist on the bed.

"Rogers escaped this morning when he was being transferred to the prison hospital, Hutch. They caught him soon after. No one else was hurt. "

"And you thought he'd come after me or Jill."

God, Starsky thought, it was truly amazing sometimes how Hutch could read his mind. "Yes-"

"Is there a uniform out there at the door?" Hutch was losing his battle to keep his eyes open. They were drooping and he fought the I-V drip's effects so he could listen to Starsky's answer.

Starsky nodded. "Just a precaution. Dobey insisted on it. And Jill got home safely, as you can see. We don't expect any more trouble, Hutch. You don't need to worry about this. You concentrate on getting well."

The blond man's eyes fluttered shut again as he murmured, "Jill-safe. Get well." He was asleep again.

Jill leaned over and brushed his blond hair off his forehead to plant a kiss there.

"Good night, Ken. I love you."

She and Dave left the room and went out into the waiting room to take chairs after speaking to the uniformed officer at the door for a moment. Silence sat between them for a few moments, then Starsky broke it.

"I'm sorry, Jill. I didn't mean to get him riled up like that. You saw him. He insisted I tell him about Rogers."

"I know. It's okay. You two have been together for so long you just can't hide anything from him." She changed the subject as she rose from the chair. "We need to talk to the doctor so I can report back to Gretchen." Jill crossed over to the nurse's station and asked the matronly dark haired nurse there if she could page the doctor who was treating Hutch. Soon the doctor appeared and came over to Jill and Dave. She smiled at him.

"Doctor, how long do you think Ken will be in here? And what kind of after care are we looking at?"

"I want to keep him here until he regains some of his strength, Mrs. Hutchinson. I would estimate a week to ten days. As I told you, he lost a lot of blood. He will probably be on crutches or have to use a cane for several weeks as we begin therapy. He may even need to have therapy for his left arm, too, from the shoulder wound. He needs as much rest as he can get so we'll continue the regimen of pain killers in the I-V for a few days, then we'll switch to oral medication. He'll be groggy almost all of the time so your visits will need to be very short. And please don't talk about anything stressful when you are here. He needs to stay as calm as possible. Like I told you before, your husband seems to be in very good physical condition so he may surprise us all and be out of here in a few days."

"What pain killer is in the I-V, Doc?" Starsky asked suddenly as a thought occurred to him. Jill looked at him in surprise.

"It's morphine, Sergeant Starsky. Why?" The doctor was as surprised at the question as Jill was.

"Is that -safe- for someone who was once addicted to heroin?" Then Jill understood. The heroin incident. She had not even thought to bring that up with the doctor. Jill shot Dave a grateful look.

The doctor frowned. "I don't remember reading in his medical record about an addiction to heroin."

"He was _not_ an addict." Starsky hissed. Even after all of these years, even the implication that Hutch had been an addict still made Starsky see red. "The addiction was forced on him." The raw emotions of those horrible days still haunted him. "About seven years ago he was injected with it for several days by a man who wanted some information from Hutch. We kicked it cold turkey." Starsky used the plural case because he had gone through it with his partner. He closed his eyes against the memories of those days flooding back to him. He had watched Hutch go through indescribable pain, sweats. Begging for more 'medicine'. Trying to get past Starsky so he could get to it. "And it wouldn't be in his medical record. You can understand why the department wouldn't include that, can't you? A cop strung out on heroin?"

"Yes, well, I understand. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." He made a note on Hutch's chart, then caught a nurse walking by and gave her instructions to change the pain killer in Hutch's I-V. Then he turned his attention back to Jill and changed the subject, smiling at her. "I would suggest you go home. There's really nothing you can do here. He'll probably sleep through the night so you can see him in the morning."

"If it's all the same to you, Doc, we'd like to stay for a little while longer." Starsky said, echoing Jill's wishes, too.

The doctor shrugged. "As you wish. I'll check on Sergeant Hutchinson later-and you."

Jill and Dave settled back in their chairs in the waiting room. They talked intermittently, then Starsky rose from his seat and went over to the coffee machine to get a cup after asking Jill if she wanted some, too. She declined his offer. He sat and sipped at the hot liquid. They fell silent again. Captain Dobey appeared about half an hour later, holding a bouquet of flowers already in a vase.

"How is he?" he asked Jill.

"Sleeping. What beautiful flowers!"

"They're from Edith, Cal, Rosie and me. Would it be all right if I took them in?"

"I think so. He'll appreciate them when he wakes up, I'm sure."

Jill and the big man went down the hall to Hutch's room and Jill pushed the door open. Captain Dobey added his flowers to the greenery already there and they left the room.

"What has the doctor said about how long he has to stay here?" Dobey asked.

"Probably a week to ten days, then he'll need physical therapy. I don't know when they'll release him for duty, Captain."

Dobey nodded, then he looked at Dave. "I can let you have one more day, Starsky, then you'll have to hit the streets again. Unless you want to be chained to your desk doing paperwork."

"That doesn't sound too bad, Cap'n." Both Dobey and Jill looked at him in surprise. Jill even put her hand on his forehead to check for a fever.

"Are you sure you feel all right?" she teased him. Just like Hutch, she knew how much Dave despised doing the paperwork that went with their jobs and Starsky chained to a desk would not be a very happy camper. They had learned that after the Gunther shooting when Starsky had to spend almost a year on long term disability as his wounds healed. It took another year on limited duty, mostly desk bound, before he was released to the streets again after being declared medically fit for his job. He still had some stamina problems once in a while, but for the most part, if he took care of himself, and let Hutch mother-hen him, he could do anything that he had done before the shooting.

"It would only be for a couple of weeks, right? I think I can handle that. It would just--be strange going back out on the streets without Hutch." His indigo blue eyes caught and held Dobey's, pleading with him to understand. Dobey understood all right. He knew Starsky minus Hutch on the streets was almost like sending half a person out there.

"Or I could assign you a new partner." the captain said quietly.

"You could." Starsky's eyes suddenly twinkled as he thought of something. "Meredith! From that time a few years ago when Hutch was shot by that kid. She was good. I could work with her again."

"I'll consider it. Meanwhile what are you two going to do? Stay here? Go home?"

Starsky scrubbed his face with his hand and looked at Jill.

"The doctor said Hutch will probably sleep for the rest of the night. You can stay at my place, Jill. It's a little closer to here than your place."

"No, I think I want to go home, Dave. But you don't have to go home with me."

"Jill-" Starsky lifted his index finger in warning-he had always called it the "Hutch finger". "You know why I do."

"I know, I know, you promised. You two and your promises." Jill rolled her eyes in mock irritation. But secretly she was pleased. She did feel safer with Starsky around—not as safe as she felt with Ken, of course, but still safe.

The trip to the apartment was taken in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. As Jill let them into the apartment, suddenly Starsky's stomach grumbled at the inhumane treatment it had endured since the sandwich he had eaten for lunch was long gone. Jill laughed at the sound.

"Want to order pizza? I'm afraid all I have to drink is soda now."

"That's ok. Everything on the pizza?" Dave asked as he headed for the phone to call their favorite pizza delivery place. Jill nodded. While Dave ordered, she went to the 'fridge and took out a Coke for her and a root beer for Dave. She took them to the kitchen table and sat down. David joined her and they made small talk while they waited for the pizza. When they finished eating, Starsky settled on the sofa to watch 'Godzilla Eats Manhattan" or some such monster movie that he loved on TV. Cleo sat down next to him and he absently petted the cat. Jill went into the bedroom to get ready for bed, then she moved into the bathroom where she washed her face and took one of the sleeping pills. She came out into the living room, tying the belt on her terrycloth robe tightly around her.

"I'm going to bed, Dave. It's been a long day."

"Okay. Sleep well, honey. I'll see you in the morning."

Jill went back into the master bedroom and took off her robe. She climbed into the bed and turned over on her side to go to sleep. But sleep again eluded her as guilty thoughts took hold of her once again. Jill turned over on her back and stared at the ceiling. Why had she answered the phone this morning? Why had she insisted on going to the Rogers' place, despite Ken's attempts to talk her out of it? She had led Ken and Dave into Rogers' trap and now Ken was in the hospital-in pain-not lying here beside her like he should be. All because of her. And Gretchen was on her back, too. Not that she blamed her boss. Jill had never forgotten to call in when she knew she was not going to be in the office. Gretchen had every right to be angry with her, every right to ask her when she was coming back to work. And Hutch, even though she knew he was going to be all right, had months of hard work ahead of him before he would be 100 again. Jill felt tears sting her eyes. This was all her fault. The guilt and the worry of the past two days finally overwhelmed her. Tears slid down her cheeks and dripped on to the pillow. She turned over on her side and let the tears have full rein. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Well, maybe not so silent. With the TV turned down low so not to disturb her, Dave could hear her crying. The walls in the apartment were paper thin. His compassionate heart-he really hated to see or hear anybody cry-broought him up off the sofa and he started down the hall to the bedroom. Starsky stopped at the door. Maybe she didn't want him to hear her crying. Maybe she wanted to be alone. But the sobs were so heartbreaking. There had to be something he could do.

Starsky whispered her name, giving her a chance to tell him to go away if she truly wanted to be alone. There was no response. Dave crossed over to the bed and sat down on the side. He repeated her name and she turned over and sat up. Jill looked at him with tears clinging to her green eyes. The sight twisted Starsky's heart.

"Dave, it's all my fault!" she wailed.

"What is all your fault?"

"Everything! Hutch in the hospital—Rogers' escape—Gretchen mad at me. You should even be mad at me. I walked right into Joe's trap and I dragged you and Ken in with me. If only I hadn't answered the phone that morning. Ken told me to ignore it. We were—otherwise occupied. Jeez, we won't even be able to—see? Everything is so messed up and it's all my fault!"

Dave gathered her to him and tucked her red gold hair under his chin. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. I told you Hutch and me know the risks of our job. There are always risks for cops every time we take a call."

"But you were there because of me." Jill whimpered into his shirt.

"We were there because we got a call about shots fired at the Rogers' home. Joe Rogers set this up when he took his family hostage. That is not your fault. You could not possibly have known he was gonna do that. We thought he was in jail." he pushed her away gently and his dark blue eyes snared her green ones. "Okay? I don't blame you. And I'm sure Hutch doesn't blame you, either. Now do you believe me?"

It was hard not to. All Jill saw in the depths of his eyes was compassion and tenderness and not a sign of reproach. It did alleviate some of her guilt. It helped to know Dave didn't blame her. But she still needed to hear the same reassurances from Ken when he was stronger. She smiled at Starsky and wiped away her tears.

"Okay. I'm okay, Dave. Thanks." all of a sudden she yawned as the sleeping pill took effect. "I think I can sleep now."

"I'll be out on the sofa if you need me." he kissed her on the cheek and rose from the bed. She laid down again and was soon asleep.

The next morning Jill awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying. For a moment she thought Hutch was in the kitchen, making breakfast for her and she smiled as she stretched. Then it occurred to her. Bacon? Hutch would not be frying bacon. Too unhealthy for him. And, besides, Jill didn't remember having any bacon in the refrigerator. Her smile grew wider as she threw the covers back to get out of bed. It had to be Dave. He must have gone to the store. Jill put on her robe and tied the belt around her. She moved out of the master bedroom and came down the hallway into the kitchen. Dave was at the stove, scrambling some eggs and cooking bacon. Dressed in the same jeans, but a different T-shirt than yesterday, he turned and grinned at her.

"Good morning. Eggs and bacon ready in a minute. Coffee's over there." he indicated the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup and sat down at the kitchen table. Jill took a sip of her coffee.

"Good coffee. And this is so nice. You went to the store, didn't you?"

Dave nodded. "I saw your list and I added some things of my own." he pointed at the bacon.

"Then how much do I owe you?" Jill rose from the table and crossed over to the chair where she kept her purse to take out her wallet.

"Nothin'. Forget it. It's an even trade. You supplied the room. I'll get the board. You'd better call Gretchen."

Jill made the call to her boss, then returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table again.

"You were really out. It's almost 8." Dave said. The dark circles under her eyes were not so black and she had more color in her face, he noticed.

"I took one of the sleeping pills the doctor gave me. I did sleep well."

"Good. You needed it."

"Any word from the hospital? I was so out of it I wouldn't even have heard the phone."

"Nobody called. I guess no news is good news, huh?" Starsky scooped up the eggs and bacon and put them on two plates, then crossed over to the table and placed one in front of her, then set the other one at the place next to her. He returned to the stove to pour a cup of coffee for himself, then rejoined Jill at the table. They ate and talked, then Jill insisted on loading the dishwasher because he had made breakfast while Dave took his shower. She took her shower and dressed in jeans and a blue and white striped shirt.

They left the apartment to head for the hospital. They checked at the nurse's station where the nurse told them Hutch had a peaceful night, then went down the hall to his room. When Jill and Dave entered, Jill noticed her husband was restless as if he was having a nightmare. As she moved closer, she saw perspiration beading on his forehead and several wet spots on the sheets. His face was flushed. Jill placed a hand on his forehead and gasped.

"Dave he's burning up!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jill pushed the nurse call button. When the disembodied voice came over the intercom, "Yes?", Jill said,

"This is Jill Hutchinson. My husband is in 414. I think he's running a fever."

"I'll be right there." the nurse said. While waiting for the nurse, Jill went into the bathroom to get a washcloth and wet it. She returned to Hutch's side and patted his forehead with the washcloth.

"The nurse is coming, Ken."

He moaned and a shiver racked his body, then his blue eyes opened slowly. "Jill?" Hutch said weakly.

"Yes, honey, I'm here." she grabbed his right hand and squeezed.

"I'm so hot." he tried to throw the sheet back, but Jill stopped him.

"I know. You have a fever. Like I said, the nurse is coming."

"Starsk?"

"Here, Hutch." Dave moved over to stand beside Jill so his partner could see him. Hutch's eyes closed again. When they opened, he smiled at Starsky weakly.

"Like the plague all over again, huh?"

"Not quite, Blondie. You were in much worse shape." Tears stung Dave's eyes as he remembered how sick Hutch was during that plague epidemic several years ago now. His partner writhing on the bed, his fever high, barely able to breathe-no antidote in sight unless they found a hired killer who had survived it and developed antibodies in his blood. They had found Callendar in time, thank God. Starsky knew this wasn't as bad—it was only a high fever, not the other symptoms Hutch had before—but it was close enough to bring back those memories. It also brought back memories of his own battles with infections at the wound sites after the Gunther shooting.

The red headed nurse came into the room and took Hutch's temperature. She frowned at the result.

"What is it?" Jill asked.

"103, Mrs. Hutchinson." She then busied herself pulling up Hutch's hospital gown to see if the wound site on his leg was causing the problem. Jill saw the wound for the first time and gasped. It was puckered, red and ugly, glaring up at her. It was draining pus. "There's the problem. I'll call the doctor." The nurse paged the doctor while Jill and Dave took turns patting down Hutch's forehead with the washcloth. The nurse then untied Hutch's hospital gown from the top and lowered it so only his midsection was covered now and checked the shoulder wound for good measure. Now Jill saw both wounds and tears stung her eyes. Hutch's body, invaded by two bullets. Holes where there weren't supposed to be holes. The doctor came into the room and the nurse filled him in on the problem. The doctor set to work cleaning out the wound while the nurse left to get some ibuprofen and antibiotics. When she returned, she gave Hutch the ibuprofen to swallow and added another I-V drip for the antibiotics. Hutch winced when the second line was stuck in his hand, but otherwise he didn't make a sound. But Jill noticed that he squeezed her hand a little tighter and the color seemed to drain from his cheeks. She didn't know if it was from his fever or pain.

"Mrs. Hutchinson, I'm afraid I need to ask you two to leave. You can wait in the waiting room." the nurse

said.

Jill nodded and leaned down to kiss Ken while she grabbed his hand again. "We have to leave now, Ken. Dave and I will be right outside in the waiting room, ok?"

"No—please-let her stay." Hutch objected weakly, squeezing his wife's hand tighter as he appealed to the nurse. She looked at the doctor to get his opinion.

"All right. You and Sargeant Starsky can stay, but you will need to stay out of the nurse's way." The doctor agreed to Hutch's request.

So Jill and Dave again sat down in the two chairs in the room and watched anxiously as the nurse monitored Hutch's vital signs and watched for an indication that the ibuprofen was working to break his fever. He was still restless, tossing and turning on the bed.

"Jill?"

"I'm here, Ken." she answered. But he didn't seem to have heard her as he called out again, "Jill! Where's my wife?" his blue eyes managed to focus on the nurse. "Where's my wife? Jill?" he whimpered.

"Can I go to him?" Jill asked the nurse. It tore her up to hear her husband sound so lost, so alone. The nurse nodded and Jill jumped up from the chair and rushed over to the side of the bed. She leaned over Hutch so he could see her and grabbed his hand. Jill brushed back the damp blond hair from his forehead with her other hand.

"I'm right here, Ken. I'm right here."

His blue eyes focused on his beloved wife's face as he reached up with his right hand to caress her cheek. "Jill. I want you to know."

"What?"

"I love you." he said it so simply and so sincerely that tears sprung to Jill's eyes.

"I love you, too, hon." Jill turned her face and kissed the palm of his hand.

"And I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You don't have anything to be sorry for." Her own guilty feelings stabbed at her heart for her part in putting him here in the hospital.

"Worry. You're worried. All my fault. In the hospital. Fever. Bullets. Cop. Cop's wife. Now you know." he was becoming groggy and Incoherent. Hutch mumbled something else that Jill couldn't make out, then finally he fell asleep from the combined effects of the pain killer and the ibuprofen, much to Jill's relief. Knowing he would be sleeping for a while and, with the nurse's assurances that she would tell them of any change, Jill and Dave went out into the waiting room.

"I'm gonna check in with Cap'n Dobey." Starsky said.

Jill nodded and sat down in a chair while Dave moved over to the bank of phones. He inserted the correct change and dialed the familiar number.

"Cap'n Dobey, please." he said into the receiver when it was answered on the other end. After a moment the gruff voice of his superior said,

"Dobey here."

"Hi, Cap'n. It's Starsky. We're at the hospital. Hutch has developed an infection in the leg wound. He has a temperature of 103. They've got him on ibuprofen and antibiotics. We're waiting for the fever to break."

"Let me know when that happens. I'll stop by tonight after work. Tell Jill our thoughts are with her."

"I will—and I'll keep you updated."

"And Starsky?"

"Yeah, Cap'n?"

"If you need another day...Just let me know."

"Thanks."

He hung up the phone and moved over to the coffee machine where he inserted enough money for two cups and rejoined Jill in the waiting room to give her one of the cups of coffee. As he sat down next to her, he said, "Dobey will be by after work. And he said to tell you his thoughts are with you."

"Thanks." They sipped at their coffee and sat in companionable silence as the minutes ticked by. Then Jill broke the stillness.

"What if it doesn't work, Dave? What if they can't get the fever down? What if it keeps going up until--" her voice trailed off at the awful thoughts that filled her head. "He's not out of this yet. He could still--"

"If one medication doesn't work, I'm sure they'll try another until they find one that does. Come on, he's come through so much already. He'll come through this, too. He ain't gonna give up the fight now."

"I have to find out." she set her cup of coffee down on the table in front of her and jumped up from the chair to head for Hutch's room. Jill pushed open the door and went in. The nurse was at Ken's side, checking the I-V's. The heart monitor continued to beep in steady rhythm with Hutch's heartbeats. As Jill drew closer, she could see that Ken's face was still flushed and his blond hair was matted to his forehead. He was sleeping peacefully though, and not tossing and turning like he had been earlier today. She smoothed back his hair and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. He was still hot.

"Has the fever gone down at all?" she asked the nurse.

The nurse shook her head. "It's too early, Mrs. Hutchinson. The ibuprofen hasn't had time to work yet."

"When will we start seeing any change, if it works?"

"The next two or three hours. He is sleeping, ma'am. That's a good sign. You really can't do anything here. Why don't you go back to the waiting room? I promise I'll let you know as soon as there's any change."

Jill nodded and returned to the waiting room. As she sat down next to Dave, he asked:

"What did she say?"

"It hasn't had time to work yet. But he's still sleeping peacefully. She said that's a good sign."

"See? That's something."

Jill nodded and picked up her coffee cup to take a few more sips. She and Dave sat quietly, finishing off their coffee and watching as people came and went through the waiting room.

"How about something to eat? Do you want to go to the cafeteria?" Starsky asked, as the hands on the clock neared noon.

"I'm not really hungry, Dave. We did have a big breakfast."

"Okay, then, you can just have something to drink. I'll eat." Jill smiled. It seemed like Dave was perpetually hungry. She agreed and they got up to go to the nurse's station to tell her where they were going in case there was any news about Hutch. They rode the elevator to the caféteria and went inside. Jill chose ice tea to drink while Dave picked out a pastrami sandwich and more coffee. They paid for their food and went over to a table to eat and drink. Again conversation was sporadic. When they returned to the fourth floor, they checked in at the nurse's station.

"Has there been any change with Hutch-uh, Sargeant Hutchinson's condition?" Dave asked the dark haired nurse behind the counter. She checked her notes.

"Uh-Bonnie was looking for you. I'll page her." Jill and Dave exchanged glances. As always they couldn't tell from the nurse's face whether it was good or bad news. Soon the red haired nurse that had been attending Hutch came up to them.

"Mrs. Hutchinson, Sargeant Starsky, the ibuprofen doesn't seem to be working to bring down Sargeant Hutchinson's fever. It's still 103."

"So what does that mean?" Jill asked.

"We'll try another fever reducer. I'm sorry, it means more waiting."

"Well, we're getting real good at that." Starsky said.

"If anything happens, I'll let you know." the nurse promised. She moved back to the nurse's station. Jill and Dave settled in for more hours of waiting. They sipped more coffee, Jill ate a candy bar for lunch since she wasn't about to go back down to the cafeteria and miss any news about Ken.

About two hours the red headed nurse came over to them in the waiting room after visiting Hutch's room. She addressed Jill.

"Mrs. Hutchinson, your husband woke up and he's insisting on seeing you. I told him that wasn't a good idea, but he's adamant." Just like Hutch, Jill thought. He could be as pig-headed as she was. " And since it's upsetting him, too, we agreed to it. Now remember he's still groggy and he may be incoherent. His fever is still high. You can only stay a few moments. We've given him another pain killer and the new fever reducer so hopefully he'll go back to sleep soon."

Jill nodded at the nurse's instructions, then followed her down the hall and into Ken's room. She crossed over to his side. Hutch turned his head when he heard her come in. His sky blue eyes were clouded over and glassy from the fever raging in him. His hair was now plastered to his forehead from sweat. Her heart clutched in her chest. First the shooting, then Ken wouldn't wake up, now this. How much more could he stand? How much more could she stand? And the guilty feelings she had caused all of this welled up in Jill again. She fought them down. This wasn't the time to bring them up. She hoped she would get a chance to do it soon. Jill took his hand and smiled down at him.

"Hi, Hutch Hutchinson. I hear you wanted to talk to me-"

Again the teasing nickname brought a small smile to his lips. "Hi. Just wanted to see you." he whispered, his speech slurred. He lifted the hand she held and pressed it against her cheek. "Where were you? Thought you stayed here?"

"We were in the cafeteria. Dave wanted lunch. You know how he gets when he hasn't eaten for a few hours." she replied lightly.

"Of course." he suddenly changed the subject as worry lines appeared between his eyes. "They keep giving me things, Jill. Pills."

"I know. They'll make you feel better, Ken."

"They only make me sleepy-sure they aren't drugging me?" In his fever clouded mind he was becoming delusional. Delirious.

"I'm sure, Hutch. They're good pills. I promise. They'll help you rest, hon. You need to rest."

"If you say so. I'm still so hot."

"Do you want me to get a washcloth to cool you down?" Without waiting for an answer, Jill went into the bathroom and retrieved a washcloth. She wet it and went back into the room to brush back his blond hair from his forehead and patted it down, wiping away the sheen of sweat clinging to his skin.

"That feels good." Jill continued to wipe away the effects of the fever, wishing she could wipe away the fever with it. Then Ken mumbled something that Jill didn't understand and he fell asleep again. Jill laid the washcloth on the table next to him and squeezed his hand. She leaned over to kiss him, then she left the room and rejoined Starsky in the waiting room.

"What did he say?" Dave asked as she sat down beside him.

"He just wanted to see me. And he's afraid they're drugging him."

"Yeah, well, they are." he snorted.

"I think he meant with something harmful. He's still out of it. God, I hope this new fever reducer works. It has to break soon. I don't know how much more of this he can take. I know he's strong, but the body can only take so much."

"Or how much more we can take, huh? I think you're holding up well." Jill looked at him. Good Lord, she knew he and Hutch could read each other's minds. Now Dave was reading hers.

"You think? My stomach is tied up in knots. And how did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You knew what I was thinking. Am I that transparent?"

"It's written all over your face, honey. And besides, I've been here, remember? I've gone through it with you."

They fell silent again and...waited. And waited. Around seven o'clock the elevator opened and Captain Dobey and Huggy Bear, the guys' friend and ear to the streets walked off.

They spotted Jill and Dave in the waiting room and walked over to them.

"Any news?" Captain Dobey asked as he sat down next to Jill and put his arm around her shoulders to hug her.

"No, The ibuprofen didn't work. They're trying another medication. They haven't told us--" her voice died away as she saw the red headed nurse coming towards them. She and Dave jumped to their feet.

"Good news, Mrs. Hutchinson, Sargeant Starsky. Sargeant Hutchinson's fever is going down. It's 101 right now. We expect it to break in the next few hours."

"Oh, thank God." she hugged Starsky. "So the new medication worked."

"Apparently. We'll keep him on the regimen until his temperature is back to normal."

"Can I see him then?"

"For a few minutes. Why don't you go get something to eat? We'll page you if anything happens."

Jill suddenly felt hunger pangs-she realized she hadn't really eaten anything substantial since Dave had fixed breakfast this morning. "I am hungry. Will you join us, Captain? Huggy?"

"No, I have to get home to Edith and the kids. She has supper waiting for me."

"And I must get back to my establish-ment. Tell the blond one we were here and we'll visit again tomorrow when he's feeling better."

Captain Dobey and Huggy walked with Jill and Starsky to the elevator, each pair then taking a different cab.

After eating supper, Jill and Dave returned to the waiting room on the 4th floor. The red headed nurse was gone for the day, but the brunette who took her place told them they could go into the room and sit with Hutch. They went down the hallway to 414 and Dave pushed the door open to let Jill go ahead of him, then he followed her. They both crossed the room to stand by the bed. Hutch was still sleeping. Jill smoothed back the blond hair from his forehead and noticed that he indeed felt a little cooler. His hair wasn't damp anymore either. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hi, hon."

"We're here, buddy-Jill and me. We'll stay with you until you feel better, even if it's all night." Starsky grabbed his partner's hand and squeezed it. Of course there was no answering squeeze since Hutch was asleep, but Dave was sure his partner had heard him. They moved away from the bed and sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chairs once again. Starsky watched Hutch sleep, again struck by how much his partner looked like a small boy, curled up on the hospital bed, still a very sick small boy. The lamp over the bed had not been turned off and the light shone down, catching the glow of Hutch's blond head. Okay, Blondie, I'm here for you like you were there for me, Starsky thought. Hutch had stayed with him after the Gunther shooting, through Starsky's own bouts with infections from the three wounds that had nearly killed him. _Me and thee._

Jill glanced at her watch. Almost 8. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Had it really only been about 10 hours ago when Hutch developed this fever? It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. She was bone tired- from worry, from waiting, from the emotional upheavals of her life over the past three days. She looked over at Hutch and her green eyes met Dave's over the bed. Jill saw the same weariness in their cobalt depths, even though she knew he would not admit to her how tired he was. That was something he would only admit to Hutch. She smiled at him and was rewarded with a famous Starsky grin.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Tired."

"Go to sleep. I'll keep watch."

"We can take four hour shifts. Wake me up about midnight. You need to sleep, too." Jill told him. He nodded, even though he had no intention of waking her up. She needed to sleep more than he did. He was used to getting by on a few hours of sleep a night. Jill closed her eyes and soon fell into a restless sleep. Now Starsky was alone with his thoughts, alone with the beeping of the heart monitor as the green line bounced in time with Hutch's heartbeat. The sound became hypnotic and Dave also fell asleep.

Starsky awoke with a start. There was no perceptible noise-except for the infernal beeping of the heart monitor and he didn't think that was what had awakened him. He glanced at his watch for the time. 2:30 a.m. And the date also stared up at him. The date he knew was coming. The date he had dreaded all year. He couldn't think about that now. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he looked over at Hutch. The nurse was by the bed, checking the leg wound.

"How is it?" Starsky whispered as he jumped up from the chair and moved over to them.

"Oh, Sargeant Starsky, you startled me!"

"Sorry. How's the leg?"

"Better. His fever broke about ten minutes ago. If you want to talk to him, he's awake."

Starsky's blue eyes flew up to his partner's face. His sky blue eyes were open. Dave grabbed Hutch's hand as Hutch smiled weakly at him. Of course he wanted to talk to him! Every time Hutch had awakened before, he had always asked for Jill first and him second. Starsky didn't begrudge him that—after all, Jill was his wife so it was only right- but now he had a chance for some 'me and thee' time, something, Starsky suddenly realized, he had sorely missed.

"Hey, buddy, you gave us quite a scare."

"I know. I'm sorry." the blond man's voice was still raspy and barely above a whisper. "Just one crisis after another, huh?" The look that passed between them was full to the brim with everything they wanted-needed to say to each other.

"Nothin' we can't get through-like always. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been through the wringer, Starsk."

"Yeah, well, you look like it, too." he pushed back the blond hair from Hutch's forehead. His skin felt cooler to the touch. "You look terrible, Blintz."

"Thanks. What's been goin' on? Rogers safe in jail?"

"Yeah. He's added jail break to the charges now. And Dobey and Huggy were here. You've got some new plants to add to your collection. From the guys in the squad room and Huggy and Dobey."

Hutch smiled again. It was weak, but it was there. A smile that let Starsky know Hutch was going to be all right. "That's nice of everyone."

"Sargeant Hutchinson, do you want me to wake your wife?" the nurse asked him in the lull in the conversation.

The blond man looked over at the form of his sleeping wife in the other chair in the room. Her red gold head was almost on her shoulder. She's going to have a crick in her neck when she does wake up, Hutch thought.

"No, let her sleep. Did she get much sleep last night?" he turned his attention back to Starsky as the nurse left the room.

The dark haired detective nodded. "The doctor gave her some sleeping pills. She slept until almost 8 this morning, I mean yesterday morning." he didn't mention the crying jag, blaming herself for putting Hutch in the hospital in the first place. He figured that was something she needed to discuss with him herself.

"Thanks for being there for her while I was-out of it."

"She is a special lady, Hutch. You know what she did while you were unconscious?"

"What?"

She sang to you. She thought maybe you would hear it."

"What did she sing?" Hutch's blue eyes filled with tears at the thought that Jill would bring music to him, knowing how much he loved it. "'Black Bean Soup?'"

Starsky shook his head and grinned at his partner's guess. "Her song-the one you wrote for her for your wedding."

"She sang "You" to me? That's beautiful."

He remembered the late night session with his guitar when that song had seemed to just spring from his fingers and his head. They had been apart for a couple of days. Jill had to go to a conference in Sacramento soon after they were engaged. Even though he had talked to her on the phone earlier, it wasn't the same as having her there and he was missing her. He hadn't been able to sleep so he went out into the living room. He had started listing the things he loved about her, how she had touched his life with joy. Suddenly the list morphed into lyrics and a tune popped into his head. It was actually one of the fastest songs he had ever written. The memory brought a weak smile to his lips through the tears. "I barely made it through the song at the reception, remember?"

"I remember. I couldn't help you much there, partner. I was crying, too. You had the whole place in tears." There were tears standing in Starsky's eyes. He swiped at the tears on his own face.

Just then they heard the sound of Jill waking up behind them. Starsky turned around and both men glanced over at her. "Um-m-ow!" she rubbed her neck where she did indeed have a crick as Hutch had predicted. She caught the two pairs of blue eyes on her. If she noticed the remnants of tears in their eyes, she didn't let on. Her own green ones flew open when she saw her husband's were open. "Ken, you're awake!" She jumped up from her chair and rushed over to his side. Jill leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. It was decidedly cooler and she sighed in relief. "And your fever broke."

"About fifteen minutes ago." Starsky put in.

"How do you feel, hon?"

"Like I went nine rounds with Mohammed Ali. Worn out." he grimaced in pain. Apparently the pain killer in the I-V bag had run out.

The nurse returned to the room. She was carrying another I-V bag and a syringe filled with something. "It's time for another shot of antibiotics and I'll refill the pain killer. Excuse me, Sargeant Starsky." she gently nudged Dave aside. He crossed over to sit down in his chair again while the nurse tended to Hutch.

"What are you giving me?" the blond man asked. This was really the first time he had been coherent enough to ask the question. Ever since the Forest incident, Hutch had always been a little wary of needles—for good reason.

She told him and then plunged the syringe into his arm and replaced the I-V bag. "We'll forgo the fever reducer for now since your fever broke. But if your fever spikes again, we'll give you more of that. It's all doctor's orders, sir."

"It's ok, Ken."

"I don't like being doped up, Jill. Tell them. I don't like being doped up." But his voice was already fading from the effects of the pain killer. His eyes drooped, too.

"I'll tell them, Ken." Jill replied soothingly. Soon Hutch was asleep again.

"He should sleep through the rest of the night. You may as well go home. We'll call you if there's any change." the nurse said.

Dave glanced at his watch. It was almost three o'clock now. "Can't we just stay here? It's kind of late to go home."

"All right. You can wait in the waiting room. I'll get you some pillows."

So Dave and Jill settled in the waiting room again and soon dropped off to sleep themselves, their heads now nestled on soft pillows.

A hand shook Starsky's shoulder about three hours later.

"Yeah-wha-Hutch?" he woke up and looked up into the face of the nurse. "What happened?" he scrubbed his face with his hand.

"Sargeant Hutchinson is fine. He's still sleeping. You have a phone call. He says he's your Captain."

"Thanks." Dave jumped up from the chair and went to the nurses' station. He picked up the phone. "Hello. Yeah, Cap'n?"

"How's the patient?"

"Gonna be fine. His fever broke about three hours ago. He's still pretty doped up."

"So can I expect you in the squad room today?"

Starsky looked at his watch. It was a little after six."Yeah. I'll be there. Is nine ok? I'll take Jill home and I have to go home to change."

"Fine. See you then. There's plenty of reports to type up."

"Terrific." he grimaced at the phone. "See ya, Cap'n."

He hung up the phone and crossed back over to the bank of chairs to sit down next to Jill again. She was awake now.

"How's Ken?"

"Nurse says he's still sleeping. Let's go eat some breakfast and then I'll take you home. I'm sure they'll call us if anything develops."

"Yeah. I'm so tired of hearing that. It's like they expect something to go wrong."

"Hey, come on. He's ok for now." he put his arm around her shoulder. "You're tired and hungry. Let's eat."

He helped her up and they headed for the cafeteria. They ate in silence and then returned to the fourth floor to tell the nurse where they were going. But she had some news for them.

"Sargeant Hutchinson is awake. He's asking for you."

"You go ahead, Dave. I want to go to the ladies' room to splash some water on my face and make myself more presentable."

"You know Hutch always thinks you're beautiful." Starsky replied.

"Yeah. Just keep him company until I get there, huh?"

"You got it."

Jill disappeared into the ladies' room and Starsky moved down the hall to Hutch's room. He pushed open the door. His partner was sitting up, a bunch of pillows behind his back. Color had come back into Hutch's face and he didn't look as doped up as before. Starsky glanced over at the I-V line. It was still half full so the medication was still coursing through his veins, but apparently this was a lull from the effects of the pain killers.

"Hey, partner. Are you supposed to be sitting up like that?"

"I asked them to sit me up. Where's Jill?"

"She had to made a pit stop."

The blond man nodded, then changed the subject. "How long have I been here?"

The days had so blended into each other since the shooting that Starsky even had to stop and think for a moment. "It's- Friday. You're goin' on three days. It's the 23rd." His voice became soft. "Today would have been Terry's birthday, Hutch. It's been six years." Even though he knew it was not really a good time, Starsky thought, but he went on the fact that Hutch did look so much better, and the dark haired man also knew he only had today to finally share that burden he had been carrying around since he had awakened early this morning and seen the date- with the only person he could share it with. Tears brimmed in his indigo eyes. The only one he could cry with.

"Oh, God. Starsk," Tears welled up in Hutch's sky blue eyes, too.

"Who else am I gonna tell, huh?"

"I'm sorry, buddy." a tear escaped and ran down his cheek as Hutch lifted his good arm to bring Starsky's curly dark head down to his chest and slid the arm around his partner in a one arm hug. He felt Starsky's tears dampen his hospital gown and tightened his hold as much as he could. He and Starsky had always been together on the big Terry anniversaries-the day she died, her birthday. They usually got a little drunk and played Monopoly. This year they wouldn't be able to do that. He knew how hard it still was for his partner even after all of these years that Terry had been gone. There had been other women in his life, but none of them had touched his heart like she had. A stab of guilt pierced Hutch's heart. He felt guilty for being so happy when he knew his partner still carried around the ache in his heart from losing Terry. Of course Hutch had lost Gillian so he knew that pain, but he had found happiness again. His partner had yet to find it. He wished to heaven that he would. The dark haired man levered himself off Hutch and swiped at the tears with the back of his hand.

"You know what? I think Terry and Jill would have gotten along great, huh?"

"I'm sure of it, pal." Hutch grabbed and squeezed his partner's hand again. Terry had been a teacher, Jill was a social worker. Both compassionate, loving women. Both in professions that tried to make the world a better place, one student or client at a time. Both understanding that Dave and Ken were cops and couldn't be anything but cops. Both understanding the deep friendship that made Starsky and Hutch closer than brothers.

"I'm sorry. Don't mind me, huh?" Starsky wiped the remaining tears away with the edge of the sheet covering Hutch. "I guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I lost her-I could have lost you."

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Not for a few days anyway." Jill pushed the door open to come into the room just as her husband was speaking and answered him. When she saw the tears still standing in Hutch's eyes, she rushed over to his side. "Are you in pain, hon?"

"Yeah-some." That was as good as an explanation for the tears as any, Hutch thought, since he wasn't going to share the real reason. That was between Starsky and him and he wasn't about to breach that confidence, not even with the other most important person in his life.

"Should you be sitting up like that? Doesn't it pull on your shoulder?" Jill hovered around him like a mother hen.

"I asked them to sit me up. I was getting bedsores. I'm ok, Jill." he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"So is Dobey on your back about getting back to work?" the blond man asked Starsky.

"Yeah. I'm goin' in today. Paperwork for the next few weeks." Starsky grimaced.

"You don't have to do that on my account, partner."

"Yes, I do, buddy. I ain't goin' back on the streets without you. I'd feel like my right arm had been cut off."

"You're left handed, dummy, despite all of my attempts to make you right handed." Hutch teased, remembering that book he had once given to Starsky about how to turn a left handed person into a right handed person.

"All right. My left arm. I still ain't goin' out on the streets without you."

"Starsk-" Hutch protested.

"Hutch-" Starsky shot back. "Hey, you endured it after I was shot by Gunther's goons and I was chained to a desk. I'm just repaying the favor. End of story." Their eyes locked and the world was shut out as they communicated in that secret code of theirs.

"_Don't argue with me, buddy. I love ya. I can't function out there without you."_

"_I love ya, too, partner. Thanks for waiting for me. I know how much you hate paperwork and being chained to a desk."_

Starsky nodded at Hutch and then broke the connection.

"Are you going back to work today, too, hon?" Hutch asked his wife. He sounded so plaintive and abandoned that Jill's heart went out to him.

"I don't have to, Ken. I'll call Gretchen and tell her I'll come in Monday. But there are a few errands I have to run today. I've barely been home for the past three days. But I'll come back, okay?"

"Okay." Hutch suddenly yawned as the effects of the pain killer once again claimed him, ending this period of lucidity. "Can you move the pillows so I can lay down again?"

"Sure." Jill removed most of the pillows behind him and helped him lay down, a stab of empathetic pain piercing her heart when she saw him grimace in pain as she did.

"I'll come back, too, buddy, after work tonight."

"'kay." Hutch was quickly losing the battle to stay awake. Jill leaned over and kissed him.

"I love you. Sleep well, Ken."

But he was already asleep. Starsky and Jill left the room and moved into the waiting room. Dave looked at his watch. 7:30. He had just enough time to take Jill home, go home himself to change and then get back to the precinct.

"Do you want to call Gretchen from here or wait until you get home?"

"I'll wait until I get home. Let's tell the nurse where we'll be."

They took care of that little piece of business and then left the hospital.

As Dave drove toward the apartment, Jill took out a notepad from her purse and started making notes.

"What are you dong over there?" Dave asked as he saw her out of the corner of his eye.

"Making a list of what I have to do today." She started to tell him, but he tuned her out, thinking about his day ahead.

Dave dropped Jill off and then gunned the Torino to head for his apartment. Getting out of the car, he raced up the stairs and let himself in. He took off his shirt and unbuckled his belt as he headed for the bathroom to take a shower. Dave took off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the stall to let the jets of water wash over him. Wearing the same clothes for over 24 hours was not something he usually did and he washed the dirty feeling away. Drying himself off with a towel, he went into the bedroom and dressed in another pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt. Shrugging on his leather jacket, he headed back out the door.

The phone rang before he could reach the front door. Dave twisted on a heel and headed for the phone mounted on the wall. He plucked the receiver from the cradle and swept it up to his ear.

"Yeah-hello?"

"Starsky. Dobey here."

"Yeah, Cap'n. I'm on my way in."

"Good. The feds are springing Rogers."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"What?! They're bailing him out? After what he did to Hutch?!"

"They gave him a deal. He's singing about some dope kingpin. They can get him with Roger's testimony. Apparently that trumps an attempted murder charge on a police officer." Dobey did not sound any happier about this than Starsky was. "Two federal agents are on their way over. I want you to be here when we talk. And get your snitches on this. See what they can find out."

"You got it, Cap'n. When is Rogers being sprung?"

"As soon as he gets a doctor's release from the prison hospital."

"So we'll need police protection again for Hutch and Jill when he's out on the streets again."

"I know that, Starsky. Who do you think you're talking to, a rookie?" Dobey snapped.

"Sorry, Cap'n. I'll swing by Huggy's. It's on the way."

"No. Come straight to the precinct. I want you in my office in half an hour."

""Kay, Cap'n."

Dave hung up the phone and left his apartment. He threw himself into the Torino and gunned the engine to head for the precinct.

After Dave had dropped her off, Jill went into the apartment and called Gretchen to tell her she would be ready to come back to work on Monday, barring any more complications with Hutch, then she moved back down the stairs and got into the Mustang. She ran the errands on her list. Returning home, she cleaned and tidied up the apartment, then cleaned out Cleo's litter box-the poor cat had been neglected for three days and filled her food and water bowls-and tended to Hutch's plants. After she finished those two tasks, Jill picked up a book to read when Hutch was sleeping today and she left the apartment to go back to the hospital. She stopped at the nurse's station to get a progress report on Hutch. The nurse there didn't know anything, but as she approached 414 she found out from noises coming from the room.

"Sergeant Hutchinson, stop!" the female voice of the nurse floated out. Uh-oh, she thought. It sounded like Hutch was becoming a problem patient. She knew he hated hospitals. Sighing, Jill opened the door and entered her husband's room. Color was returning to his face—in fact it was bright pink either with frustration or exertion, Jill couldn't tell. His left arm was in a sling. The red headed nurse was trying to put another I-V bag on the stand, but Hutch was having none of it. He was sitting up in the bed, using his good arm to grab at the bag in the nurse's hand. When the blond man spotted his wife, he entreated her:

"Tell this nurse I don't like being all doped up."

"Sargent Hutchinson, it's your pain medication. I can't stop it just like that."

"Please—all I want is to be awake enough to talk to my wife for more than 15 minutes at a time and not fall asleep in the middle of a sentence." he snapped, but Jill could hear a plaintive tone underlying his voice.

Jill said to the nurse, "Does he have to take the medication by I-V? Can't you give him something in oral form?"

"I'll need to check with the doctor." the nurse said, putting the bag out of Hutch's reach. "I'll be right back." the nurse left the room.

"Well, you must be feeling better if you're aggravating the nurses." Jill leaned over and kissed him.

"I slept most of the morning. How are you doing?" his face was a study in concern for her as he cupped her face in his good large hand and caressed her cheek. He also saw what Starsky had seen earlier: the dark smudges under her eyes and the pinched, drawn face and his heart twisted.

"I'm ok, Ken, really—for being scared out of my wits when you almost bled to death, then you wouldn't wake up and then developing an 103 degree fever."

"I know. I'm sorry." a guilty look crossed his face and her heart twisted. "I've put you through so much. You haven't had to deal with anything like this before. But this is what a cop's life is like. We've been lucky up to now. I guess my luck just changed. Do you still want to be a cop's wife?" Even though his tone was light, he searched her face for any sign that she was seriously having second thoughts about being married to him. He held his breath without realizing he was as he waited for her response. That had been the reason Vanessa had left him: she didn't think being a cop's wife held any future.

"Of course I do. My grandfather was a cop, remember?- and my grandmother handled it. My mother has always told me I'm a lot like said grandmother. You aren't getting rid of me that easily." Jill reassured him, knowing his history with Vanessa. She started to fuss with the sheet covering him and fluffing the pillows behind him. When she started fussing with things like that, Hutch knew something was on her mind. "What's wrong, Jill?"

"I-oh, God, Hutch, this is all my fault. If I hadn't been so pigheaded about going to the Rogers, I wouldn't have walked into Joe's trap for you and Dave." Hutch now saw the guilt eating her up inside. Jill had been so worried about him that she had tamped it down before.

"It isn't your fault—"

"But you wouldn't have even been in that house to get shot if it wasn't for me, Ken!" she wailed, bursting into tears, all of the guilt and worry overwhelming her. The raw edges of her emotions were exposed, scraping her heart.

"Oh, Jilly, please don't cry." he only used the silly childhood nickname in private moments. No one knew he called her that, not even Starsky. "You know I hate it when you cry." God, he wanted to hold her with both arms—to calm her fears-to assuage her guilt. He tried to lift his arm, but he was still weak and the simple movement still hurt so much that it dropped to his side. Jill seemed to be aware of what he was trying to do and the fact that he couldn't made her cry all the harder. Hutch's blue eyes filled with tears.

"Jilly, come here." he pulled on her arm and Jill leaned over. Hutch managed to get his good arm around her without too much pain from the wound in his shoulder. Jill laid her head down on his right shoulder. "Please don't do this. Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you. You aren't responsible for Joe Roger's actions. He is. He set the whole situation up. You had no way to know he was going to take his family hostage." he slid his long fingers through her red gold hair and lifted her head. His icy blue eyes met her meadow green ones still damp with tears. There was no recrimination in their blue depths, just love and concern. "None of this is your fault, ok?" one of Hutch's long fingers reached out to wipe away a lone tear running down her face. Jill fell head over heels in love with her husband all over again at that moment. She smiled at him and swiped away the rest of her tears.

"Okay--" she kissed him.

The nurse returned to the room. She was holding a syringe.

"All right—we compromised, Sargent Hutchinson. I'll give you a shot. This won't be so fast acting. You'll have about an hour to talk to Mrs. Hutchinson before you fall asleep. Is that acceptable?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Ken, come on. She's trying to be helpful."

He sighed, resigned to his fate. "All right. Arm or hip?"

"Hip. Roll over on your side." Jill moved away. With the nurse's help Hutch managed to roll over on his right side with little discomfort and she plunged the syringe into his hip through the openings of his hospital gown. Then she rolled him back over on his back after the initial pain of the shot had subsided.

"I'll leave you now. If you need anything, push the call button."

"Yeah,yeah, I know."

The nurse left and Jill moved back over to his side. She picked up his right hand.

"So we've got an hour. What do you want to talk about?"

"I just said that for her benefit. What I really want to do--" Hutch wiggled his eyebrows in a lascivious Groucho Marx as he pulled her down by the arm until her face was close to his. "--is to kiss you silly."

"You really are feeling better-" the rest of her sentence was smothered as Ken's lips found hers in a thorough kiss, his tongue tracing the fullness of her lips. This was more like it, she thought. This was one of Hutch's kisses, a kiss that sang through her veins. The kisses she'd had given him over the past few days had to be short and quick, almost perfunctory, because he wasn't strong enough for anything else. She relaxed under it, glad he was obviously feeling stronger. But what Hutch didn't realize when he brought her down, he had inadvertently leaned on the nurse call button; that is, until the nurse opened the door.

"You need something, Detective-oh, I'm sorry."

Jill started giggling when she realized what he had done and broke off the kiss.

"Sorry, we didn't mean to call you." Jill managed to say.

"No, it looks like you have everything well in hand." that remark sent Jill into another spell of giggles. The nurse closed the door.

"That wasn't funny." Hutch said, even though he was trying very hard not to laugh himself as Jill stood up.

"Yes, it was. We'd better watch out where we put this thing." She moved the call button to a safer place.

They talked for another 45 minutes until Hutch started to feel the effects of the shot. After several yawns in a row, he mumbled, "God, I hate this. Will you stay with me?" he fumbled for Jill's hand and squeezed it.

"I'll be right here when you wake up." she leaned over and kissed him.

He nodded, let go of her hand and was soon fast asleep. Jill moved over to the chair and took out her book to start reading.

Meanwhile after Dave parked the Torino and went inside the Metro to bound up the stairs. Starsky pushed open the double doors to the squad room and went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He took a sip and grimaced-as usual it was too strong for his taste-so he poured a generous heaping of sugar into it. He smiled as he could almost hear Hutch say "A little coffee with your sugar, Starsk?' Starsky sighed and got up to knock on Dobey's door. Without waiting for an answer, he walked in.

"I'm here, Cap'n." Two men in identical dark blue pinstripe suits with matching dark blue ties were sitting in the two chairs facing Dobey's desk. The two men rose to their feet. One was of Hispanic descent, tall, lean, with salt and pepper hair and black eyes. The other was shorter, stouter, and had sandy brown hair and gray eyes. These must be the feds Dobey wanted him to meet.

"Starsky, come in. I want you to meet these two gentlemen. This is Greg Guitterez and James Witherspoon. They are the federal agents on the Rogers case." As Starsky came into the office, the Captain's brown eyes caught Starsky's blue ones and warned him to not cause any trouble, even though Dobey knew that was asking the impossible, especially since the case involved Hutch and the two partners were fiercely protective of each other.

"Oh, so you're the guys who are gonna let the man who shot my partner back out on the streets." Starsky ignored the two men's proferred hands. They awkwardly let their hands drop to their sides.

"Well, uh- how is Detective Hutchinson?" Guitterez asked.

"He's gonna be fine. But that ain't the point, Guitterez. What does this turkey Rogers know that you bozos want so badly?"

"Starsky!" Captain Dobey growled in warning as Starsky took a step toward the federal agent.

"No, Captain Dobey. It's perfectly understandable that Sergeant Starksy would be upset with us for letting Joe Rogers back out on the streets. Do you mind if we tape this interview? It's standard operating procedure for us so no misunderstandings occur."

"Yeah-whatever-" Starsky shrugged his shoulders. Witherspoon produced a cassette tape recorder and punched down the play and record buttons simultaneously.

"He can give us Reynoldo Rosetti, Detective. Do you know how long we have been chasing Rosetti? Ten years. You are not going to blow this for us, Sergeant Starsky. H-we will not tolerate any interference from you. I've already instructed your Captain to order you not to take any action against Joe Rogers that might hinder this deal."

"Oh, yeah?" Starsky moved over to Guitterez and pulled on his tie so that they were face to face. Starsky's eyes were almost black with fury. The federal agent tried to turn his eyes away, but the detective wouldn't let him. "And you give your client a warning from me. If he comes anywhere near me, my partner or his wife, I will shoot him with the least provocation. You got that?"

"Starsky--" Dobey growled again. Starsky knew the Captain would not warn him a third time. He was already trying his superior's patience and Dobey would not hesitate to charge him with insubordination if he pushed any further. That would not do him—or Hutch any good. Starsky flipped the tie up into Guitterez's face and then released it. He moved away.

"We were not aware that Sergeant Hutchinson's wife was involved in this incident." Frowning, Witherspoon spoke for the first time and his remark surprised the dark haired detective. "What is her name—and she lives at the Bayview Avenue address?"

"Jill-and of course she lives with Hutch. They're married. You guys are slipping. She's a social worker. Jill was working with the Rogers family. She went in to try to talk to Joe during the stand-off the other day."

The federal agents exchanged glances. "Mr. Rogers did not share that information with us. Is someone staying with her while Sergeant Hutchinson is in the hospital?"

"I'm watching her. So you guys even think Rogers could go after Jill!" Starsky's anger was kindled again.

"The fact that Joe didn't mention this concerns us, yes. He is in protective custody. We do not anticipate he will jeopardize his deal.

"And just what his _deal? _What are you charging Rogers with in Hutch's shooting anyway?"

"I am not at liberty to--" Guitterez started to say, but Starsky interrupted.

"Stuff your confidentiality clause, Guitterez. You know I can find out about the warrant."

"All right. Assault with a deadly weapon. and of course we will also take the jail breaks into consideration, too."

"That's a slap on the wrist!"

"He will serve the maximum." Witherspoon said, as if that should appease Starsky.

Starsky snorted. "That's still a slap on the wrist. He should be going down for life for attempted murder of a police officer and you know it."

Ignoring Starsky's remark, Guitterez glanced at his watch. "We have to be going, Captain." Witherspoon shut off the tape recorder and picked it up. "We will provide you with a copy of the tape if you wish. We have another meeting. It was a pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Starsky." his tone held an undercurrent of sarcasm.

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine." Starsky replied in the same sarcastic undertone.

"Good-bye, Captain Dobey."

" Guitterez- Witherspoon." the Captain nodded at them and they left the office. Starsky fell into one of the chairs the federal agents had just vacated and put his feet on the Captain's desk. For once Dobey didn't yell at him to put them down.

"Cap'n- there is somethin' those turkeys ain't telling us and I have a bad feeling about them. Did you check them out?"

"They had ID. Are you suggesting they aren't who they claim to be?"

"Or they're poor excuses for feds. Didn't you think it was strange they didn't know about Jill? The Feds we know would have done their homework and would have known all about her, down to her shoe size."

"Starsky, just because they do sloppy work doesn't mean they're shady," Dobey reasoned.

"Yeah-I guess." he still wasn't totally convinced.

"Where do you want to go from here?"

"I'll pull Joe Rogers' and Reynoldo Rosetti's sheets. There may be somethin' in there." Starsky swept his feet off the desk and stood up. Dave left the office and exited the squad room to go down to R and I. He asked the clerk for the two files he wanted and took them back up to the squad room. He sat down at his desk and downed the rest of his coffee, then filled the cup again and added a generous helping of sugar. Starsky opened the file on Rogers, but the words on the page swam before his eyes. He couldn't concentrate. His thoughts returned to Hutch in the hospital. Even though he knew his best friend was out of the woods now and was getting better, it still pained him to know Hutch was hurt. He glanced over at the messy desk across from him-it was just like Hutch had left it five days ago now. What a slob, he thought to himself. This was going to be so hard. No Hutch to tease him about his car. About his eating habits. No Hutch there to hash out the details of the case, to go over suspects. Starsky rubbed his eyes and focused on the file in front of him. He leafed through the pages. There was his report of Rogers' arrest on assault charges after he and Hutch had finally talked Molly Rogers into pressing charges. Apparently Molly was not the only person he had beaten up. He had two previous arrests of starting fights with two guys in a bar within six months of each other four years ago. A note also indicated the man had a juvenile record, but of course that would be sealed. Starsky closed Rogers' file and opened Reynoldo Rosetti's. Now this guy had a rap sheet as long as his arm. All arrests for suspicion of drug trafficking, suspicion of murder, suspicion of drug possession with intent to sell, but only one conviction on an assault charge. He had only served a year. The conviction was overturned on a technacality. In prison at the same time as Joe Rogers. Starsky wanted this scum off the streets-Rosetti belonged in jail-but he just didn't like the way it was going down. Dave leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hand. He banged the file shut angrily. Why was he wasting his time? There wasn't a case here. Before when either one of the partners was hurt, the other one went after the bad guy responsible so there was always a case to solve. This time the feds had the bad guy and they had tied up the case with a neat little bow: Rogers' testimony would put Rosetti away for a long time. But something was gnawing at Starsky. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and he trusted his instinct just as much as he trusted Hutch. The feds had tied it up _too_ neatly. There was something he had overlooked,or not heard. God, Hutch, why aren't you here? I need you. They worked best when they could bounce thoughts and ideas off each other. One of them could see something the other didn't. He couldn't take a feeling to Dobey: the Captain would demand evidence and he had zilch. Well, he did have the names of the officers who had arrested Rosetti. Maybe there was a lead there. He just couldn't give up, not when this gnawing feeling that something was wrong continued to eat at him. Starsky picked up the receiver of the phone and punched in an extension. After two rings, the phone was answered on the other end.

"Yeah-Ritterman-"

"Ritterman-this is Dave Starsky. You were one of the officers that arrested Reynoldo Rosetti on a drug possession charge about 12 years ago." he consulted the file on his desk.

"Yeah-what about it, Starsky?"

"Did the feds get involved in that case?"

"Naw. That was way before he was a big time dealer. He was still only a street pimp at that time. He and his son had a two bit operation over on the south side."

"His son?" Starsky took out his notebook and made a note.

Yeah, the kid was only about 15 at the time. He'd been busted for pedaling drugs on the campus of Riverview High School. The kid was released when he was 18, then went back in for drugs again. He was killed in a knife fight in prison a year later. That's when Rosetti started moving up in the world. Became a mean SOB. Some people think he went a little crazy over his son's death."

"So there is a sheet on his son. What's the name?"

"Uh-Orlando, I think. But the last name isn't Rosetti. Rosetti never married his mother so he had her name. Uh-Suarez. Yeah, that's it. Orlando Suarez."

"And did Rosetti know the cops that put his son in the second time?"

"Yeah. Let me think a minute." there was a pause which seemed to last forever to Starsky, then Ritterman continued, "John Corlew. Over in Robbery. It's been so long I don't remember who he was partnered with at the time. Some rookie, I think. That would have been about the time you and Hutch joined the force, right?"

"Right. Thanks, Ritterman. You've been a big help."

Starsky hung up the phone and rubbed his tired eyes again. He told Ritterman he'd been a big help, but what the other cop had told him still didn't feel like much. Maybe his bad feeling just came from the fact that Joe was going to get a light sentence and he'd be back on the streets in a few years. Maybe his gut feeling that Joe was going to come after him or Hutch or Jill was unfounded. After all, the man was in protective custody and that federal agent said they didn't anticipate Joe jeopardizing his deal. But of course there was always the basic stupidity of the criminal mind...Starsky's stomach growled and he glanced at his watch. 11:30. Lunchtime. He'd had an early breakfast. He would check with the other officers named in the report later. Starsky drained the rest of the coffee from the cup. Sweeping the files up in his hand, he rose from the chair and left the squad room. He returned the files to R and I, then rode the elevator to the first floor. He went out the front door of the precinct and got into the Torino. Gunning the powerful engine, he drove to The Pits, Huggy's bar, to kill two birds with one stone: to eat and get some information. He parked in the back as he usually did and sauntered into the back door. Starsky slid into a booth as Huggy saw him and came over to him. He slid into the booth across from him.

"Starsky, my man. How's the blond half of the dynamic duo?"

"He's doing better. Need a favor, Hug. Can you keep your ear to the ground about Rogers?"

"The dude that shot Hutch—and beats on his wife?"

"That's the one. He's being sprung by the feds. Seems he can give them some drug kingpin which to them overrules an attempted murder charge on a cop."

"That stinks. So the guy's gonna walk for shooting Blondie?"

"Not if I can help it." Starsky shot back.

"Who's the druggie?"

"Reynoldo Rosetti."

Huggy whistled. "O-o, Heavy dude. No wonder the feds want him. What's the connection between Rogers and Rosetti?"

"They were in prison together."

"You'd better watch your back, too, Starsky. If Rosetti comes after you..." his voice trailed off.

"I'm more worried about Hutch and Jill, Hug. Right now they're both vulnerable: Hutch in the hospital. Jill-just –Jill. I promised Hutch. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah-" blue eyes locked on to brown ones and that one word carried all of the weight of their feelings for each other and the Hutchinsons.

"Get me a special and a root beer, huh, Huggy?" Starsky looked away first and broke the silence.

"You got it." the lean black man slid out of the booth. "Where can I get in touch with you?"

"I'll be at the precinct."

Huggy just nodded and walked back to the kitchen to give them Starsky's order. After he ate his lunch, he returned to the precinct.

Jill looked up from the book when she heard Hutch stir and moan. She closed the book and laid it down in the chair behind her as she got up. Suddenly a wave of dizziness hit her hard. Thinking she had just rose from the chair too fast, Jill tried to regain her footing. Instead she collapsed in a heap and darkness overcame her.

"Jill?" Hutch called out for his wife as he awoke and rolled his head to the side where he knew the chair was. That's when he saw the slumped form of his wife on the floor. "Jill! Oh, my God!" Not even thinking about his injuries, Hutch threw the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The wound in his leg screeched in protest and pain shot up and down his body, so powerful that he clenched his teeth against the agony and nearly dropped to his knees. He grabbed the side of the bed with his good arm to right himself. Hutch could feel the stitches in his leg separate. He tried to relax in an attempt to stop the pain and leaned over to pick up the nurse call button. That simple movement aggravated the shoulder wound and he again clenched his teeth against the pain. He punched at the call button over and over, murmuring, 'Come on, where are you?' until the familiar voice of the red headed nurse came through the intercom.

"Yes, Mr. Hutchin-" that's as far as she got.

"My wife! She's fainted or something. She's in a heap on the floor. Get in here!"

Hutch released the button and put it back, then noticed that blood was seeping through the stitches in his leg. He was also starting to perspire again from the exertion-or was he developing another fever? He groaned in pain and worry about Jill. She was so close and yet so far. Normally he could go to her. Damn Rogers for putting him in this hospital bed and he cursed himself for being in so much pain he couldn't get to her. He should be able to endure it: he should be able to endure anything to get to Jill. The nurse burst through the door, followed by another nurse he didn't recognize.

"Detective Hutchinson! What are you doing? Get back in that bed!" the red headed nurse scolded him as she moved over to him while the other nurse ran over to Jill.

"I have to get to her. Please-help me. I have to get to her!" Hutch tried to get up once more, but the pain shooting through his body stopped him cold once again.

"We'll see to her. Now get back into bed." the red headed nurse swung his legs back under the covers, but not before seeing the blood now trickling from the wound in his thigh. "You've torn the stitches, Sergeant. We'll have to re-stitch."

"I don't care about me. How's Jill? Jill!" he shouted as he fought the nurse as she laid him down again.

The other nurse had picked Jill up from the floor and put her in the chair. She was checking her pupils, then her vital signs.

"What happened, Sergeant Hutchinson?"

"I don't know!" he screamed at her. "I woke up and she was on the floor! That's all I know. Is she ok? Jill? Come on, babe, wake up."

"Sergeant, calm down." the red headed nurse tried to soothe him. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead and his sky blue eyes were wild with worry.

"Don't tell me to calm down! Dammit, tell me what's wrong with my wife!"

The red headed nurse punched the nurse call button and summoned another nurse to the room, telling her to bring in a gurney, then she paged the doctor. When the other nurse arrived, the red headed nurse put her in charge of Hutch who was still ranting and she and the other nurse laid Jill down on the gurney. Then she left the room to get the suture material and needle to repair Hutch's wound, along with another syringe with the pain killer. As she arrived at the door of Ken's room, the doctor came from the other way.

"What's the problem?"

"Mrs. Hutchinson fainted. Sergeant Hutchinson tried to get out of bed to help her and he tore the stitches in his leg."

They went into 414 together. The doctor went over to Jill while the red headed nurse returned to Hutch to stitch up his leg wound and then give him the shot.

Jill moaned as she slowly opened her eyes to find a light shining into them.

"Wh-what happened?" Then she forgot herself as she saw the nurse at Ken's bedside. "Ken! Is he all right?" she tried to get up again, but she had another dizzy spell and fell back on the gurney.

"He's ok, Mrs. Hutchinson. You fainted and he tried to get up to help you. Do you remember what happened?" the other nurse asked.

"Ken was waking up. I got up from my chair too fast. I felt dizzy. That's the last thing I remember."

"Did you have a headache or backache or chest pain or abdominal pain before you fainted?" When Jill shook her head, the nurse continued, "How about shortness of breath or any weakness?" Again Jill shook her head. "Did you eat breakfast this morning?"

"Yes-really early. Dave and I went to the cafeteria about 6, I think."

"And how much sleep did you get last night?"

"I don't know. About three hours. I woke up when Ken's fever broke."

"We're going to run some tests on you, Mrs. Hutchinson. Blood work, EEG to see if there's any unusual brain activity. Lay still for about 15 minutes, then I'll be back with a wheelchair for you."

"Can I see Ken? Tell him I'm leaving for a little while?"

"Yes. I'll roll the gurney over to the side of his bed. You can talk to him." the nurse replied. She pushed the gurney over to Hutch's bed. Jill picked up his right hand and squeezed. He rolled his head over to look at her and smiled weakly.

"Jill?"

"I'm here, babe. What were you trying to do, my white knight in shining armor, save me?"

"That's what knights in shining armor do. Are you all right?"

"I'm ok. They want to run some tests. I'll be back before you know it."

"No!" he protested, squeezing her hand tighter. The shout was a pathetic one—like a little boy watching the toy he wants most in the whole world sold to someone else. "Stay with me."

"Sh-h. Hutch. I'll be back. I promise."

They held hands and talked until the nurse came in with a wheelchair. She helped Jill into it and they wheeled her off.

After two hours of poking, prodding and testing, Jill was returned to the waiting room on the 4th floor. The nurse told her Hutch was still sleeping and that they were rushing her tests through. They should know something in a couple of hours. She sat down in a chair and waited. Again. Her stomach grumbled and she realized she had missed lunch. Jill went over to the candy machine and popped a quarter in to get a candy bar. She ate it and then laid her head back on the chair to close her eyes.

Jill was awakened by a hand on her shoulder. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw the doctor standing above her.

"Ken? What happened?"

"He's fine. He's still sleeping, Mrs. Hutchinson. We got your test results back. Everything looks fine. Let me ask you something. When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

"The night you gave me those pills, I slept pretty good. But I guess I haven't been sleeping very well for the past month-" she admitted meekly." I'm a social worker and I've been working late at the office and had some cases weighing heavy on my mind. And then this happened..." she trailed off.

"Then by the process of elimination I would say you're suffering from exhaustion. I want you to go home and rest. I'll give you some stronger sleeping pills."

"No, I can't. Ken-"

"You can't do Sergeant Hutchinson any good if you're worn out-" the doctor said sternly. "Now I'm going to restrict you to seeing your husband only during the evening. I want you to go home and sleep during the day."

"For how many days?

"A few , Mrs. Hutchinson. Come back and see me next Tuesday. I'll give you a doctor's excuse for work. You can call your boss, too. Can you call your dark haired friend and have him take you home?"

"Dave-yes. I'll call the precinct."

She went over to the bank of phones and made her calls to Gretchen and the precinct.

"Starsky, get in here-" Captain Dobey ordered as Starsky finished up a long overdue report. He tossed it into the out box and followed the big man back into his office.

"What is it, Cap'n?" Dave asked as he plopped down into one of the chairs facing the Captain's desk.

"You need to get back over to the hospital--" Starsky's blood ran cold and the color drained from his face.

"Hutch?" He jumped up from the chair and headed for the door. Dammit, what now? His partner had been doing so well. What the hell had happened?

"No-Jill. She fainted. The doc thinks it's exhaustion and worry."

"I don't doubt that." Starsky turned back and looked at the Captain. "Hutch told me she'd been working late most nights for the past month. That's why he didn't feel so guilty about our late hours on the Robinson drug bust. Has he gone on his guilt trip yet?" Knowing his partner as well as he did, Starsky was certain Hutch would find a way to blame himself for this.

"He doesn't know yet. Apparently he pulled the stitches out of his leg when he tried to get out of bed to help Jill."

"Ow-" Starsky grimaced in sympathetic pain. "But Hutch is always the white knight. So they stitched him up again?"

Captain Dobey nodded. "And knocked him out with more pain medication. He's still sleeping. Doc wants Jill to rest. Take her home and make sure that she does. She won't do Hutchinson any good if she wears herself out."

"I'll take care of it, Cap'n."

"She said the doctor is restricting her to seeing Hutch only during evening visiting hours so you'll be on nights for the duration. Stay with her during the days."

"Got it, Cap'n." he saluted and left Dobey's office.

"What in the hell were you doing-trying to kill yourself?" Dave asked Jill after they had gotten into the Torino and he headed for Jill's apartment. "You ain't gonna be any good to Hutch if you're a zombie."

"I know. I'm sorry. Don't start, Dave. I've already been yelled at by the doctor." she rubbed her tired eyes and Starsky immediately felt guilty for yelling at her. She didn't need that right now.

"I'm sorry. It's just—dammit, Jill, you have to take care of yourself."

"I thought I could handle the late nights. I guess I found out I can't."

"When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

"I did sleep well that night I took the pills the doctor gave me, like I told you. I guess that's the first and last time for about the past month."

"The last month? And you never complained about it to Hutch?" he could feel his anger at her rising again.

"And just when was I supposed to do that, David?" she shot back. Starsky knew she was really angry when she used his given name. "I hardly ever saw him. You two were on stakeouts almost every night, so wrapped up in that big drug bust you were working on." The two partners had finally caught a drug dealer they had been tracking for almost a month two nights before the shooting at the Rogers. Hutch had told Starsky Jill was usually understanding about their jobs and the long hours it sometimes entailed, so Dave guessed that the worry and fatigue weighing heavily on her was the reason for her outburst. Taking one of his hands off the wheel, he ran his hand through his dark hair.

"Right. You know Hutch will blame himself for this."

"I know. He does tend to do that, doesn't he?" sighing, she sank against the seat and closed her eyes. "I'll deal with it when the time comes." Dave let her rest for the remainder of the trip . He parked in front of their apartment. Then he gently shook Jill's shoulder.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Let's get you up to the apartment." He helped her out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Jill unlocked the door and Dave pushed it open for her, then followed her inside. He steered her toward the master bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. She took off her shoes while Dave went into the bathroom to bring her a glass of water to wash down the sleeping pills the doctor had given her. She slid under the covers and turned over on her side. Jill closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep. Dave went back into the living room and turned on the TV to absently watch a soap opera.

Meanwhile Guitterez and Witherspoon held a struggling Joe Rogers between them as they took him down a hallway and into an office. Reynoldo Rosetti, a wiry man with black hair and cruel brown eyes looked up when they came in. Two of his goons stood up and came to stand by Rosetti.

"Hello, Joe-" Rosetti's smile was wide, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Glad you could join our little party."

"Rosetti-" Joe's voice was hoarse with panic. Guitterez and Witherspoon didn't have him in protective custody: they had him in Rosetti's custody. They were in Rosetti's pocket. And nobody knew it. "What do you want with me?"

"Oh, Joey, Joey, let's not talk business right away. Have some refreshments." Rosetti snapped his fingers and one of the goons picked up a tray from a nearby table to move over to Rogers. It was laden with finger sandwiches.

"No, thanks. I ain't hungry." Even though he was hungry, he wasn't about to take the chance that they were poisoned.

"They aren't poisoned, I assure you, Joe." Rosetti said silkily as if he had read Rogers' mind.

"I ain't hungry, I told you!"

"Fine, fine. Jimmy, Nicky, take Joe to his new quarters."

The two goons moved over to Joe and each one took an arm. They dragged a struggling Rogers out of the room. Rosetti addressed Guitterez and Witherspoon.

"Any problems with the local constabulary?"

"No, sir. That police captain Dobey fell for us hook, line and sinker."

"Good. Now it's time for phase two-the Hutchinsons."

"The cop's still in the hospital. It would be easy to whack him there." one of the other henchman in the room said.

"No!" Rosetti rumbled. "I want them to go down together-after I remind them when their paths crossed mine the first time. I'm like an elephant. I never forget a wrong done to me-or mine." he smiled, an evil gleam in his eye.

"And that blond cop and his wife are going to pay for it-the last thing they'll ever do together." His smile turned malevolent.


	7. Chapter 8

_Author's note: I'm really sorry I left it hanging like it did and it took me so long to get the next chapter up. I hope it's worth your wait. I had a bit of writer's block and I am writing on a notebook so I can only write for a few hours at a time before I have to wait for the batteries to charrge. Enjoy!_

Chapter 8

Starsky whirled back around and looked at her. Jill was pointing a shaky finger at the pig on top of Hutch's desk-or what was left of the ceramic animal. The head had been shattered, several jagged pieces lying on the surface and a note had been stuck in the gaping hole. The dark haired man moved over to the desk and picked up the piece of paper by a corner to read, the letters cut out of a magazine or newspaper:

'Hey, pig! You're dead, Hutchinson!'

Jill swayed on her feet and dropped down into Hutch's chair. She felt as though a hand was clenched around her throat. Someone was threatening Ken—someone wanted him dead. Joe Rogers had almost succeeded in killing him, now someone wanted to finish the job. Sheer panic swept through her, fear for her husband. "They want to kill Hutch! Dave, who?"

"Jill, I hadn't told you before but I guess you need to know now. Joe Rogers is out on bail." Starsky said quietly.

"Joe? You think he wants to finish the job on Hutch?"

"Wait, there's more. The feds have Rogers in protective custody. He's going to testify against a drug kingpin named Reynoldo Rosetti. When Hutch was in uniform he arrested Rosetti and he made threats against Hutch and the other officers."

"But, Dave, that was what-10 or 12 years ago? Why would this Rosetti hold a grudge that long?" Jill's head was spinning, trying to take in the shock of the threat against Ken and what Starsky was telling her about Rogers and Rosetti. It was just too much to grasp. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"I don't know. I don't even know if I'm on the right track. All I have are little pieces that don't add up to squat and a gut feeling that I'm right. I'm gonna call Dobey and get a uniform on Hutch at the hospital." Dave glanced at his watch. It was a little after 9. He knew the Dobeys went to church on Sunday mornings, but it was early enough that maybe he could catch the Captain before he left. Starsky punched in the number and waited. After three rings, Dobey answered.

"Yeah-Dobey-"

"Cap'n, Starsky. We now have a direct threat to Hutch. We found his pig with its head shattered and a note threatening him."

"His pig? What pig?" Dobey sounded as if he thought Starsky was punch drunk from staying up all night.

"The pig. You know the pig on his desk -at the station." Dave explained. Geez, didn't anybody remember the silly pig on Hutch's desk? He guessed that it was such a fixture now nobody paid any attention to it anymore.

"What did the note say?"

Starsky told him and Dobey asked,

"What's your best guess about who sent this message? Do I need to call Minnie in for computer work?"

"It wasn't signed, but I'm guessing Rosetti."

"Rosetti? And what evidence do you have that he's involved-besides what Hutch told me last night about a vague threat?"

"None-yet, Cap'n, but I'll get it. It's a gut feeling."

"And DA's don't convict on gut feelings, Starsky!" Dobey growled."You'd better get some hard evidence-and fast."

"I know. Can we talk about this later?" Starsky underlined the last word with his voice.

"Is Jill there with you?"

"Yes-" he had to keep his side of the conversation as noncommittal as possible as he desperately tried to shield Jill from any more shock. She already looked like a deer caught in the high beams of a car.

"Was she there when you found the note?"

"Uh-huh-"

"And you don't want to talk while she's standing there?"

"You got it, Cap'n. No sense in that, is there?"

"All right, get the pig and the note down to the lab. Maybe there'll be something there. Take Jill home. I'll get a black and white on their apartment. And I'll see you at 2."

"See you later."

Starsky dropped the receiver into the cradle and turned back to Jill. Her face was still white, but she wasn't shaking anymore. "You want some water, Jill?"

She looked up at him, still disoriented, blinking as if she had just come out of a deep sleep. "What?"

"A drink—of water?" he mimed drinking from a cup.

"Uh-no, thank you, Dave."

Starsky squatted in front of her and his indigo eyes caught her green ones. They were still filled with a deer in the headlights look. "Jill, I really think we should go back to the apartment. You've had a shock. We'll call Hutch and tell him we'll be in later."

Dave's eyes were filled with concern and she understood why, but she felt her place should be with her husband right now. "No! I want-I need to be with Ken!"

"Jill, honey, there's been a threat made against his life. He wouldn't want you caught in the crossfire." Starsky tried to reason with her.

"Please, Dave- we'll only stay a few minutes. You'll be with me on the way to the hospital-and once we're inside, we'll be safe with the officer outside his door. Besides, you know he'll ask why we aren't coming in if we don't--" her green eyes pleaded with him.

"All right-" he sighed. Starsky couldn't argue with that. His partner would ask why they had missed a visit. "Let's go. We have to make a stop at the lab to give them the note and the pig."

"Why?" she was puzzled for a moment, then it dawned on her. "Oh, fingerprints!"

"Yeah, maybe. I think Rosetti would be more careful than that—but it's worth a try." Starsky looked around the squad room for something to put the shattered pig and the note in so he wouldn't leave his fingerprints, settled on a coffee mug and placed the evidence inside. He and Jill left the squad room.

Jill and Starsky entered Hutch's hospital room about an hour later. The blond man was still sleeping. The fever last night had taken a toll on him. He was pale, his face as white as the pillow beneath his head, instead of the almost normal shade it had been just yesterday. He was also restless, moaning in his sleep, caught in the throes of a nightmare or just the pain, Jill couldn't tell. She crossed over to him and placed her hand on his forehead to smooth back his blond hair. At her touch Hutch stopped moaning and his sky blue eyes opened.

"Hi, hon-" she smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

"Hi yourself-" Hutch took advantage of her position and brought her down to him in a one armed hug. All of the fears for his life flooded over Jill again and she squeezed him even tighter. She found his ear and whispered into it:

"I love you so much, Ken-" as tears formed in her eyes. One escaped and trickled down her cheek to drop on his neck. He felt the wetness and pushed her away gently so he could look at her. Hutch swept away another tear with one finger.

"Hey, what are the tears for? I'm okay." Hutch's smile grew wider, then he looked from her to his partner who had come up behind Jill and again saw something on Starsky's face, instinctively telling him something was wrong. The blond man's smile faded. "What? What happened?"

"Someone bashed in the head of your pig and left a threatening note, Hutch-" Starsky replied quietly.

"My pig?" Hutch echoed, scrubbing his face in puzzlement.

"The pig on your desk. We think it's Rosetti."

"What did the note say?" Hutch growled, his anger now kindled.

"Pig, you're dead, Hutchinson'-" Jill supplied the answer to his question and Hutch's gaze snapped back to her.

"You saw it?" his gaze flew back to Starsky. "You let her see it?"

"She saw it first, Hutch. She came up with me to the squad room. I wasn't gonna let her sit in the car outside-alone."

Hutch caught the meaning of his partner's words: Starsky had been protecting her just like he promised Hutch he would. He just hadn't expected the threat that awaited them at the station. "Yeah-okay, so there's been a direct threat. _Now_ does Dobey think we can do something? I want Jill protected, Starsky." Hutch shook his finger at his partner and attempted to sit up, groaning when the shoulder wound protested the movement. Starsky and Jill moved to either side of the bed and helped him to a sitting position, then Jill put a pillow behind his back.

"Yeah, you got it, partner. I'm meeting with Dobey at 2. We're gonna decide our next step. And there's a uniform outside your door. Now he'll put some uniforms outside your apartment, too. And I'll still be there to protect her."

"Will you two stop talking about me as if I'm not even in the room?" Jill broke in.

"We know you're here, Jill." Hutch turned his head to look at his wife. "Now you know I don't usually tell you what to do, but in this case I want you to do everything Captain Dobey and Starsky tell you to do." he told her sternly, his index finger coming up to wag in her face. "Please, Jill-" his face softened and his icy blue eyes glowed with love and concern. "For me?" his good hand reached out for hers and he squeezed it.

"Yes, Ken-" she replied meekly. How could she resist complying with his request when he looked at her that way? Their eyes locked and held and silent communication passed between them.

_'I love you. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you.'_

_'I love you, too. I'll do anything you say.' _

Then the spell was broken and Jill changed the subject.

"My parents called last night."

"Oh? How are they?" Hutch's tone turned warm. He liked his in-laws.

"Fine. Mom wanted to hop on the next plane out here when I told her about you—and my exhaustion."

"I hope you talked her out of it." Hutch became alarmed. "We don't need your mother in the middle of all this."

"I did. She's not coming. But she told me to tell you they're thinking about you."

The conversation turned to other topics, then Starsky checked his watch.

"I'd better get Jill home so I can be at the station at 2 to meet Dobey."

Jill kissed Hutch good-bye and Starsky squeezed his partner's good shoulder, then they left the hospital to return to the Torino. Starsky headed for the Huthcinson's apartment. True to Captain Dobey's word, a black and white sat a few hundred yards from their place. As Starsky brought his car to a halt and they exited the Torino, the uniformed offficer got out of his car and came over to them. He was probably in his late 20's, a kind looking man with sandy brown hair and brown eyes. Starsky recognized him as Donovan Connelly, a three year veteran of the force who was getting ready to take his detective's exam, a good upstanding cop.

"Hi, Connelly-" Starsky greeted him, then introduced him to Jill. "Jill, this is Don Connelly. He'll take good care of you."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hutchinson. I wish it was under better circumstances. We all want you to know that we're all thinking about Hutch." The respect for her husband was unmistakeable in the younger officer's voice.

"Thank you. And call me Jill." she extended her hand and he shook it.

"Okay, Jill." he grinned at her.

"Would you take her upstairs? I've got a meeting with Dobey."

"Sure."

"I'll see you later, Jill." Starsky grabbed her hand and squeezed it, then returned to his car and went back to the precinct. Parking in his usual space in front, he entered the station and went back to R and I to get Suarez' file.

He had a few minutes before his meeting with the Captain to look at it. As he expected, it was short. The kid had only one arrest when he was 18—the one that sent him back to prison where he was killed. All of the rest of his arrests were juvenile arrests and the file was sealed. As Hutch had told him, Ritterman and Marshall were the arresting officers. Again there was no mention of Guitterez or Witherspoon anywhere in the case. Suarez had been knifed to death by a fellow prisoner named Nicky Caputo. He made a note of that and read on. The kid had been placed in Children's Protective Services when his mother died. Then Starsky saw a name he never expected to find in this file.

Jill Sutherland was the case worker.

Hutch's Jill!

Starsky checked again, shuffling through the pages. It was there—in black and white. The dark haired detective sat back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hand as a thought struck him. Jill had ties to Rosetti, too—or at least to his son. Did that mean she was a target, too, and not just because she was married to Hutch? Rosetti could have a beef against her also!

"Starsky!" Captain Dobey's growl broke through Starsky's reverie.

"Huh? Yeah, Cap'n--" Dave picked up the file in front of him and followed the big man into his office. Starsky dropped down into one of the chairs in front of the Captain's desk. "Cap'n, Jill has a tie to Rosetti herself—apart from being Hutch's wife." he began the meeting without preamble.

"How?"

Starsky laid the file in his hand on the Captain's desk and shoved it across to him. "She was a case worker on Rosetti's son Orlando Suarez when he was a teenager. I just found it in his file. That could explain why Rosetti waited 12 years to make his move. He didn't know Hutch and Jill were married until now—two birds with one stone and all that."

Dobey studied the file in front of him so long that Starsky thought the Captain had forgotten his presence in the room. "Cap'n?"

"Yeah, Starsky, I heard you. It makes sense. Rosetti could have a beef against Jill, too. So you'll need to see Jill's files. I'll get a warrant so you can search them. Jill will have to go into her office tomorrow." the black man sat back in his chair and dragged a hand through his short hair. "This gets more complicated by the hour. What do you want to do?"

"Hutch and Jill are both safe, for now, Cap'n. But I think I oughta get Jill and go back to the hospital to talk to her and Hutch together. I think Hutch knows things he doesn't know he knows. And maybe Jill will remember something, too."

"Okay. Did you tell Hutch about the pig?"

Starsky nodded. "And I took it down to the lab and asked them to put a rush on it."

Dobey nodded in acknowledgment, then they both fell silent for a moment, then Dobey broke it. "You know we may have to separtate Jill and Hutch-and she may not get to see Hutch for the duration of his stay in the hospital. If your theory is correct, then it's too dangerous for them to be together."

"I know—and that's gonna wound Hutch more than anything Rosetti could ever do to him. Jill, too, for that matter. Let's wait on that, Cap'n. Let's see what Jill's files tell us before we make a move in that direction. If my theory is correct, then it's possible that Rosetti won't make a move until Hutch is out of the hospital and back home again so that gives us a couple more days to find him."

"Do you have a last known address on him? A place to start, at least?"

"Last known was a hotel on Main. It burned down two years ago. No one knows where he is now. Word is that he moves around a lot so no one can get a bead on him."

"The feds might have an idea where he is." Dobey suggested.

"I'll check on it, Cap'n." Starsky took out his notebook and made a note.

"Anything else?"

"No." Starsky rose to his feet and flipped his notebook shut. "I'll go back to the hospital."

"If anything comes up, you let me know. I'll be at home. I'll see you back here at 8 tomorrow morning. I want an update."

Starsky left the Captain's office and went downstairs to R and I to return the Suarez file, then picked up Rosetti's file and made a copy of Hutch's report on the arrest. He stuffed it in his back pocket and picked up the receiver of a nearby phone to punch in the number of the hospital. He'd called it so much in the past few days he knew it by heart now. After three rings it was answered. He asked to be transferred to the 4th floor nurses' station. They told him that Hutch was still sleeping from the latest round of pain killers he'd been given shortly after Starsky and Jill left him that morning. He asked to speak to the doctor, telling him that they needed to make an exception to the rule that Jill could only see Hutch once a day so she could come back to the hospital again-- it was police business. Then Starsky pushed the hang up button and punched in Jill's number. After four rings, a sleepy voice came through the wires.

"H'lo?"

"Jill, this is Dave. Look, I'm sorry to wake you. I need to talk to you and Hutch about this case at the hospital. Meet me there in twenty minutes."

"Me? What can I tell you?"

"It turns out this involves an old case of yours. I'll fill you in when you get there. Get Connelly to drive you."

"Okay-" Jill still sounded puzzled, but she had promised Ken she would do whatever Dobey and/or Starsky told her to do. "I'll see you in a little while."

Starsky arrived first at the hospital, parking his Torino near the entrance and went in. He took the elevator up to the 4th floor and went into 414. Hutch looked like he had just been awakened and the nurse had him sitting up. He looked a little better than he had that morning, but his face was still a shade paler than normal. The sky blue eyes lit up with welcome when he saw his partner.

"Hi-what are you doing back here?" When he saw the serious look on the dark haired detective's face, the smile faded. "What happened? Jill?"

"No, no, she's fine. She'll be here any minute. I asked her to come back."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you yet."

"Starsky!" Hutch snapped. Usually he trusted his partner when he was being mysterious like this and went along, but today it just irritated him.

Ignoring his partner's outburst, Starsky pulled up one of the chairs in the room to sit down next to the bed. "Hutch, I want you to try to remember something-anything-about the threats Rosetti made against you."

"I've told you everything I remember."

"I don't think you have. Think back. There's gotta be somethin'. I think you know somethin' you don't know you know."

"Oh, that makes a lot of sense, Starsk!" Hutch snapped sarcastically.

"Think! 12 years ago. You and Corlew made the arrest."

"You've seen my report!"

"I want to hear it from you." Starsky shot back. "And to help you remember I brought a copy of your report."

"Oh, all right--" Hutch finally conceded defeat. He knew it was fruitless to try to get Starsky off this line of questioning. He was like a bulldog with a bone. Starsky pulled the report out of his back pocket and handed it to the blond man. Glaring at him and sighing, Hutch grabbed it from his partner's hand and read through the report.

As he was reading, the door opened and Jill came into the room. She crossed over to the men and leaned over to kiss Ken, then she looked over at Dave.

"Hi-I don't know why I'm here, but I'm here."

"Why are you dragging her into this, Starsk?" Hutch asked, mystified and a little peeved at his partner.

"Just-read the report." Starsky brought the blond man's attention back to the paper in his hand. Hutch tried to recall the scene.

"'Suspect was handcuffed. Minor was taken from suspect. Suspect told police that minor was his son. The kid fought us all the way, yelling and kicking. Yelling 'Papa" over and over again. It was really pitiful. Corlew finally had to cuff the kid across the mouth to shut him up. That's when Rosetti went crazy, yelling about police brutality and how he was going to get even with all of us pigs who had brought his son down.'"

"That could explain why he destroyed the _pig_ on your desk. Anything else?"

"The kid kept yelling something in Spanish. Wait, let me think." Hutch lifted his good hand to his forehead and rubbed it. "Um-m, pennies. No, money! What's money in Spanish?" the word suddenly came to him and he snapped his fingers. "Dinero! That was it. Some kind of money."

"The money from the drug drop?"

"No—I don't know." now Hutch scrubbed his face and grimaced, then pounded his fist into the bed. "Dammit, I can't remember. It's just been too long, Starsky."

"Okay, buddy. Take it easy. I'll give you an easy one now. What was the kid's name?"

"I told you that yesterday."

"I know. I want you to tell me again—with Jill here."

"Now wait a minute. Why?"

"She's involved more than you know." the dark haired man turned to Jill and said, "The kid's name was Orlando Suarez."

"Orlando Suarez?" she echoed.

"You know him?" Hutch's head snapped around and he stared at her in astonishment.

"Yes. he was one of my first cases." then her eyes widened. "Oh, my God, you're right! Rosetti's son! Why didn't I make that connection when you told me you suspected him of destroying the pig?"

"Well, you had other things on your mind at the time." Starsky said gently. "So, Jill, Dobey's getting a warrant this afternoon so we can go through your file on Suarez. You'll have to go into the office tomorrow. Now can you think of any reason why Rosetti would hold a grudge against you?"

"N-no-" the full impact of the implications of her involvement with Suarez and Rosetti suddenly hit Jill and she started shaking. "So you think Rosetti could come after me, too? Ken-" she fumbled for her husband's hand and clenched it tightly. He pulled her down to him and held her in a one arm hug, trying to calm her. Hutch could feel her trembling and, ignoring the pain in his shoulder the movement caused, he drew Jill into both arms. He needed to hold her, no matter what the pain. This wasn't just about him anymore. Jill was involved and all he could think about was keeping her safe. If only just holding her would do that...If only all of his love for her could keep Jill out of harm's way because then he would know nothing would ever happen to her. Jill's trembling arms clung to him as she buried her face into the corded muscles of his chest. Clouded with anger, his sky blue eyes sought out his partner's indigo blue ones. Again the silent communication of many years of friendship passed between them.

_Why did you have to do this?_ Hutch pleaded with him.

_I'm sorry, buddy. Do you think I liked it? She had to know, Hutch. _Starsky replied. _You know we'll do everything we can to keep her safe._

_I know. I just wish it didn't have to be this way._

Then another thought clicked in the blond man's mind and he said aloud to his partner:

"So if Rosetti is gunning for both of us, Jill and I can't be-together-in the same place."

"What are you saying-we can't be together?" Jill spoke in a weak and tear smothered voice as she lifted her head from his chest and her green eyes searched his pale blue ones for an answer.

"Jill, hon, think about it. That's what Rosetti wants—to take us out together. Isn't that your theory, partner?" Hutch's eyes shifted to Starsky's. Jill's eyes darted over to Dave, too, as she straightened up.

Starsky nodded. "That's what we think. We won't know for sure until we see Jill's files—or she can remember something about why Rosetti would want to ki-hurt her." Dave couldn't bring himself to say 'kill her'.

"So I can't visit Ken anymore? And do I have to leave the apartment?" Jill asked in a strangled voice. She grabbed her husband's hand again. This was turning out worse than she first thought. Jill was so sure she and Ken could have handled this as long as they could be together, to give each other strength. But now it seemed they were even taking that away from them.

"As far as we know, Rosetti doesn't know where you live so as long as the detail is there, you should be safe at home. But yes, Jill, it isn't safe for you to be here-or anywhere- with Hutch."

"Come on, Dave, surely Rosetti wouldn't do anything in a hospital. It's too-public. I mean it's not like he would plant a bomb or anything." Jill was grasping at any available straw, her mind refusing to wrap itself around this situation.

"He wouldn't need to. It would be easy to whack you and then put something poisonous in Hutch's IV. And a hospital would be the perfect place because it is so public. Anyone can get in here. They can't lock the doors." Starsky paused a moment, then added: "So when Hutch gets out of here, we may need to take him to a safe house. I'm sorry."

Jill's eyes flew to her husband's as she bit her lip to keep herself from crying. From the warring emotions on Hutch's face, it was painfully obvious he was torn between wanting her to be safe and wanting her by his side. The fact that the two were mutually exclusive in this situation was pure torture for him. Starsky's heart wrenched, too, at the sight. He was not used to denying his partner anything it was in his power to give and the fact that he was the one who had to bring up this solution was torturous for him. Silence sat between the two men and Jill as they all contemplated the situation in front of them.

"There's no other way?" Jill finally broke the stillness in a choked voice. Then a thought hit her and she added:

"Wait, you can bring me to the hospital, Dave. You won't let anything happen to me." To her this was a simple solution to the problem. Why did Ken and Dave make it so difficult by suggesting that she and Ken had to be kept apart?

"I'll run it all past Dobey. He's calling the shots on this and I think in this case we really should follow his orders." Starsky replied as he and Hutch exchanged glances. It wasn't as easy as Jill made it sound. There were still too many variables, too many of those little pieces that didn't add up. Too many loose ends. Too much theory, too little facts.

They talked about other things for another hour, then the nurse came in to tell them visiting hours were over and Hutch needed another round of pain killers. After a lingering kiss from Hutch, one she savored in her heart, Jill and Starsky left the room and took the elevator down to the first floor to exit the hospital. They took the Torino to the Hutchinson's apartment. Jill washed down her sleeping pill with a glass of water and was soon sound asleep while Starsky settled on the sofa and found a basketball game to watch on TV.

Jill was awakened a few hours later by the jangling of the telephone. Sitting up, she reached for the receiver on the telephone on the nightstand and swept it up to her ear on the third ring.

"H'lo?" she said sleepily.

"Hello, Jill—this is Edwina Hutchinson."

The stilted, clipped voice of Ken's mother came through the wires and Jill was immediately fully awake. She had an almost irresistable urge to snap to attention. She settled for sitting up in the bed.

"Hello, Mrs. Hutchinson." Even though she didn't mean for it to happen, Jill's tone became stilted, too. She didn't know her mother-in-law very well and her infrequent calls made Jill uncomfortable. As it had been when Ken and his younger sister Chrystina were growing up, the elder Hutchinsons were very busy people, their father with his many business holdings and their mother with her charities so they rarely had—or even made—time to call their 'wayward' son who, besides moving halfway across the country from Minnesota, had deeply disappointed his father when he didn't follow the career path for which the elder Hutchinson had groomed him: to become a lawyer—and had chosen to become a cop instead, a big step down from what a son of his should be, in the elder's opinion.

"Is Kenneth there? I am calling to wish him a happy birthday." Birthday? Jill calculated. It was only July! Hutch's birthday was more than a month away. Did the woman not even know when her son's birthday was? As if she figured out what Jill was doing, the elder Mrs. Hutchinson continued: "I realize it is early, but Russell and I are going to England tomorrow so we will not be in the country on Kenneth's actual birthday." And heaven forbid that they make an international long distance call on the actual day, Jill thought. According to Ken, even though Russell Hutchinson had lots of money, he was very tight with it.

"No, ma'am, he isn't. I'm sorry I didn't call you. Ken's in the hospital. He was shot during a domestic dispute shootout five days ago."

"How badly was Kenneth hurt?" a hint of concern crept into Mrs. Hutchinson's voice.

"He was wounded in the thigh and the shoulder. He lost a lot of blood and the wound in his leg became infected twice, but he is fine now."

"Good, I am glad to hear that. But of course his job is so dangerous that wounds are to be expected." She couldn't even drum up any sympathy for her son, Jill thought. Any other mother of a cop would be beside herself with worry: Hutch had told her Dave's mother had been when he was shot by Gunther's goons. But not calm, cool, collected Edwina Hutchinson. Far be it for her to worry about her son. "How are you, dear?"

Jill cringed at the only endearment Mrs. Hutchinson used for anybody. She was not really sure her mother-in-law really wanted to know: it was just a perfunctory question. Jill thought back to the telephone call she had had from her own mother. Talking to her was so much different than talking to her mother-in-law. Any warmth and real caring was missing from this conversation.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Hutchinson. I've been resting during the day. I fainted from exhaustion the other day."

"Oh, dear, you must take care of yourself—for Kenneth's sake. You won't do him any good by wearing yourself out." Her tone lacked any real conviction that she cared about either Jill or Ken. As a matter of fact, Ken's mother sounded almost—bored.

"I know. I will. How are Chrissie and Hank and Kari?" Jill asked after Hutch's sister and her family.

"_Chrystina and Henry and Kari_ are fine." Mrs. Hutchinson emphasized Hutch's sisters' given name and her son-in-law's given name, not the nickname Ken had given his sister when she was little and her husband's nickname. Nicknames were not dignified—any diminutive of their names was frowned upon. Mrs. Hutchinson still didn't understand how her daughter could have named her daughter 'Kari', a given name that sounded too much like a nickname for her taste.

"Well, I must hang up. I have some packing to do for our trip. Please give Kenneth my wishes for a happy birthday when you see him."

"I will, Mrs. Hutchinson. Good-bye."

Jill slipped the receiver back into the cradle and threw the covers back on the bed. She got up and went down the hallway to the kitchen where she found Starsky piling pastrami and cheese high on rye bread. He grinned at her as she came in.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Who was on the phone? I figured it wasn't the hospital since you didn't come to get me."

Jill shook her head. "Mrs. Hutchinson. She called to wish Hutch a happy birthday—early."

"But his birthday isn't for another month yet."

"They'll be in England so they won't be here."

Starsky shook his head. It really was sad such a great guy like Hutch had two parents who had had such little time for him when he was growing up—and still did. But Starsky figured it was their loss. They didn't know what a caring, compassionate, sensitive man their son had turned out to be, despite their neglect. He tore his thoughts away from that and to the sandwich he was making.

"I can make two of these if you want. Then there's a Godzilla movie marathon on Channel 6."

"Count me in."

Starsky was late again. He thought he had set the alarm to give him plenty of time to get ready the next morning, but slept right through it. Luckily Jill had set hers since she had to go into the office today and shook him awake in time to take a quick shower and eat a slice of toast. But it was still a little before 8 when he got on the road and the station was a good twenty minute drive away, longer if he was unlucky enough to get stuck in traffic. However, his luck held. Traffic was light and he cruised along at the speed limit. Tapping on the steering wheel to a song in his head, he was startled when the radio squawked.

"Zebra Three-Zebra Three—come in." Dobey's brisk, urgent voice came through the radio. Starsky reached over and picked up the microphone.

"Zebra Three-what is it, Cap'n?" as it had over the past few days every time he got a call over the radio or by telephone, his heart jumped in his throat, thinking it was news of another complication with Hutch. So he wasn't prepared for this news.

"Starsky, they just found Joe Rogers' body—in the alley behind the laundromat on First."


	8. Chapter 9

_Author's note: Again I apologize for not getting this out before now. I have had real life bite me (almost literally)with a lower back problem that has caused much pain. We are also going on vacation soon. I will try my best to finish this before we leave-I think I can wrap this up in one more chapter—so I won't leave ya'll hanging._

Chapter 9

Starsky slammed the Torino to a stop in front of several black and whites in the alley and jumped out. He ran over to the uniforms milling around the crime scene—and the stretcher holding the body of Joe Rogers. Starsky picked up the corner of the tarp and glanced down. It was Rogers: Starsky would never forget the face of the man who had shot Hutch. Rogers' unseeing eyes stared up at the detective. He had one gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead, a .38 caliber, it looked like to Starsky. He dropped the tarp and spotted Captain Dobey, talking to one of the uniforms he recognized as Rob Deming. Starsky moved over to the black man.

"What happened? Who found him?"

Dobey nodded toward a tall, thin man dressed in a white uniform. He was nervous, puffing on a cigarette and shifting from foot to foot as he watched the activity around him. "Name is Vic Stephenson. He's the morning cook at the diner next door. Said he found him when he threw the garbage into the dumpster. Coroner says he was dumped here from some place else. He probably died between 8 and 12 last night. That's as close as he can come to a time line. They're still working the scene."

"Who were the uniforms first on the scene?"

"Deming here—and Miller."

Starsky nodded and addressed Deming.

"Whatcha got?" Starsky started to survey the crime scene, too. "Did you find the weapon?"

Deming shook his head. "We think this was a professional job, Starsky. Took the weapon with him. Picked up the shell casings, too. We found these in Rogers' pockets." the younger officer handed evidence bags to Starsky. There was the usual stuff: wallet, spare change, keys. As he handed the evidence bag back to Deming, a shiny object on the ground caught Starsky's eye.

"Deming, you got a hanky?" the younger cop pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the dark haired detective. Leaning down, he plucked the item up. It was a nickel he guessed had fallen out of Rogers' pocket—or perhaps the murderer's. When he turned it over, he realized it wasn't just a nickel: it was a buffalo head nickel.

A rare coin. "See what you can find off this." Deming slipped the nickel into an evidence bag. Starsky continued his survey of the crime scene, but found nothing else. A thought hit him and he went back over to Captain Dobey.

"Have Guitterez and Witherspoon been here, Cap'n?"

"No--"

"So much for protective custody, huh?" Starsky snorted. Now that was strange. The feds were conspicuous in their absence. The old Sherlock Holmes story of 'the dog that didn't bark'. The piece of evidence that should be there, but wasn't. It was easily explained, though: Joe had escaped from police custody, he could have escaped Guitterez and Witherspoon, too. But then why weren't they there, sticking their nose in 'their' case, investigating his murder? It didn't make sense, like many other things in this case. Another loose end. Starsky checked his watch. He didn't have time to pursue that lead right now. If he didn't leave soon, he'd be late for his appointment with Jill.

"Cap'n, I'm gonna meet Jill. What about the warrant?"

"I sent it over to her office. It should be delivered by the time you get there. And Starsky, make sure you follow it to the letter. I don't want this thrown out of court because you didn't."

"You and me both, Cap'n."

Starsky jumped into the Torino and headed for Jill's office downtown.

The dark haired detective walked into the building housing Children's Protectve Services and went up to the third floor. He found Jill's office easily and knocked on the door. At her muffled 'come in', he entered. Jill looked up from shuffling through files and smiled at him.

"Hi, Dave--" then her smile faded when she saw the look on his face. She was getting as good at reading his face as Hutch was. "What happened?"

"They found Joe Rogers' body in an alley on First."

"Oh, my God. When?" she sat back in her chair in shock.

"This morning. Coroner thinks he was killed last night between 8 and midnight and dumped there."

"Rosetti?"

Starsky nodded. "It makes sense—so Joe couldn't testify against him. Now we gotta find out why he could be after you."

"Yeah--" Jill plucked a file from the pile on her desk and pushed it toward Starsky.

"Wait a minute, Jill, I don't have the warrant. Dobey said he sent it over."

"Do you need it? I am letting you see the files voluntarily."

"I know, but we've gotta do this by the book. That's all we'd need to have the file thrown out as evidence on a technacality."

"I'll see if it came--" Jill rose from her chair and crossed over to the door to open it. As she did, her boss, Gretchen Winters, a tall, slim woman with dark brown hair cut to her chin and dove gray eyes came in from the other way. She had a folded document in her hand.

"Jill, a process server just brought this over." She spotted Starsky sitting in the chair. "Oh, hello, Detective Starsky."

"Hi, Gretchen--" Dave grinned at her. Jill took the document from her and opened it. It was the search warrant for her files. "Jutst what we needed. Thanks."

"Always glad to assist the police in any way we can." Gretchen replied. She left the office and Jill moved back to her desk to sit down again.

"Okay, now we're covered. Whatcha got?"

Jill opened the Suarez file and surveyed it briefly. "He was sent to his first foster home when he was 10. His mother died and Rosetti was not in his life at that point. He only stayed there six months. His foster parents physically abused him. He was sent to another home and stayed there for two years."

"Any more abuse?"

"Not physical-this time it was emotional. But it was very subtle. He complained about the Taylor's not understanding him, but we thought it was just a preteen stage. We found out later he was right, he was being abused emotionally. We took him out as soon as we confirmed it. Another foster home until he was 14. This one seemed to be a good match--"

"What do you mean 'seemed to be'? Was there more abuse?"

Jill shook her head. "But a coin collection of rare buffalo head nickels went missing from the Hudson's."

"Say that again--" Starsky couldn't believe his ears. The coin he had found at the crime scene! It was a long shot, but it could be their first break in this case.

"A buffalo head nickel collection went missing from the Hudson's. Why? Is that significant?" she leaned forward in her chair.

"It could be." Starsky took out his notebook and scribbled in it. "I found a buffalo head nickel at the crime scene. If we can determine a link between it and Rosetti--"

"Orlando went to live with his father after the Hudson's, Dave. Rosetti sued for custody and won. Is that enough of a link?"

"Only coincidence, Jill. We need something more concrete—like Rosetti's fingerprints on the coin."

Just then they heard a commotion out in the hallway and suddenly Jill's door flew open. Molly Rogers, her mousy brown hair in disarray and her brown eyes wild with emotion, stormed into Jill's office.

"Are you happy now? You killed my husband!" she shrieked at her case worker. "Because of you, my children don't have a father!"

Jill just stared at the woman for a moment, all of the compassion and sympathy she had ever felt for Molly completely gone now. Anger rose up in Jill, an anger she realized she had been surpressing ever since Hutch had been shot—at the hands of this woman's husband! Granted, Hutch wasn't dead, but he'd had a couple of close calls and he was still in the hospital and vulnerable to an attack by Rosetti. Jill had been too worried and scared before, but now she vented her anger.

"Your husband started this when he shot mine! He deserved what he got!"

Both woman locked eyes, neither one of them backing down, then suddenly Molly's face crumpled and she dissolved into tears. "I'm sorry, Jill. I'm so sorry." Jill was frozen to the spot. She had offered Molly a shoulder to cry on many times in the past, but she couldn't do it now. She also couldn't tell Molly it would be all right, because it wasn't. Jill was not in a forgiving mood. She didn't know if she ever would be when it came to this woman. She would always see her as the woman whose husband had shot Hutch. Jill realized their relationship had been irretrievably broken. She couldn't work with Molly anymore. Too much had happened.

"I'm sorry, too, Molly--" Jill replied. That's all she could say right now.

"What is going on here?" Gretchen fought her way into Jill's office through the small crowd who had gathered at the doorway, drawn to the noise of the confontration. Jill had not even noticed them until now. She had been so focused on Molly. She had even forgotten Starsky was still there. "Ok, people, let's break it up." Gretchen continued. Jill's co-workers filed out and returned to their offices. Jill's boss asked again, "Now what is going on here?"

Molly was still sobbing, unable to talk, so Jill answered, "Joe Rogers is dead. They found his body this morning. Molly blames me."

"Detective Starsky, will you take Molly and get her a drink of water to calm her down? I want to talk to Jill."

Starsky nodded and put his arm around Molly's still heaving shoulders to lead her out of the office. Gretchen closed the door behind them.

"Ok, start at the beginning, please. Why would Molly blame you?"

"Joe shot Hutch. To reduce the charges against him, Joe told the FBI he could give them a drug kingpin named Reynoldo Rosetti. We think Rosetti killed Joe to prevent him from testifying, then he'll come after Hutch and me

next because he thinks we have some information about him that he doesn't want anyone to know so Joe started this chain reaction. I can't do this, Gretchen. I can't work on the Rogers' case. Get someone else to take it over. Maria knows almost as much as I do."

"You know I don't allow my case workers to pick and choose what cases they want to work. We don't have enough staff to handle all of our cases as it is. You will continue on the Rogers case, Jill—or--" Gretchen's voice trailed off.

"Or what?"

"Or you may want to find another job."

"If you're making it a choice between my love and concern for my husband or the job, then Hutch is always going to be more important than my job. I'll hand in my resignation tomorrow."

Jill could see warring emotions on Gretchen's face, of not wanting to lose a good worker and her strict rule against a worker's personal feelings getting in the way of the job. Finally she said slowly, "Jill, I don't want to lose you. You're one of the best case workers we have. It doesn't have to come to that, does it? We'll compromise. You'll still do the paperwork and I'll assign one of the interns to do the visits. Will that do?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gretchen."

There was a small short knock on the door and Starsky opened it to peek around.

"Everything ok?" he asked Jill and Gretchen.

"Fine, Dave. You can come back in." Jill invited him in.

"No, can't. Gotta get back to Metro. Lab results should be back soon. I just wanted to check up on you, Jill. Connelly's downstairs to drive you home. You take your meds and go to sleep. I'll be by later."

Starsky closed the door to Jill's office and went downstairs to leave the building. He returned to the Torino and headed it for the precinct. Starsky parked in his usual spot and went inside to take the stairs two at a time to reach the squad room. He sat down at his desk and pulled the phone toward him, ignoring the other detectives and officers milling around. Punching in a number he took from his notebook, he waited for the phone to be answered on the other end.

"Federal Bureau of Investigations—Summers--"

"Hello, Summers, this is Detective David Starsky, Metro Division, BCPD. Can you connect me with either Greg Guitterez or James Witherspoon?" Starsky was going to solve the mystery of why the two investigators had not turned up at the Rogers' crime scene once and for all. It had been bothering him all morning.

"One moment, please--"

There was silence for several moments, then the phone was picked up again. "Detective Starsky, this is Inspector Davis. You were asking about a Guitterez and Withserspoon? Greg Guitterez and James Witherspoon were dismissed from the Bureau six months ago—for cause--"

"What cause?" Starsky closed his eyes as the news about Guitterez and Witherspoon sunk in. His instincts about them had been right, but that didn't change the fact the he had not done anything about it. If he had—if he had made this call days ago-- could he have prevented Joe Rogers' death? If only he hadn't pursued Rosetti through Hutch's recollections and the reports of the other cops. Well, he had made that choice. He'd have to live with it. A stab of guilt pierced his heart anyway.

"We aren't at liberty--" the agent began and Starsky finished.

"--to disclose that. I know, I know. Do you have any idea where I can find them?" Knowing their whereabouts might lead him to Rosetti if they were in his employ now.

"Again we can't give out that information. Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?"

"No, that's it. Thanks."

Starsky slammed the receiver back into the cradle and leaped from his chair. He knocked on Captain Dobey's door. At the Captain's gruff,

"Come in--" Starsky opened the door and entered the office.

"Starsky--" the black man sat back in his chair. "So what did your meeting with Jill turn up?"

The dark haired detective told Dobey about the foster home abuse Suarez suffered and the coin collection robbery. "I'll have Minnie run that through the computer so I can pull the file."

Captain Dobey nodded. "Heard anything from the lab yet?" As if on cue, Dobey's phone rang and he reached over to clamp the receiver to his ear. "Dobey--"

"Captain, this is Billings at the lab. Is Starsky there with you?"

"Yeah-" he held out the phone to Starsky. "The lab. Billings."

Dave took the phone and swept it up to his ear. "Whatcha got, Billings?"

"Most of the fingerprints were wiped off, but we got two you might be interested in."

"I'll be right there."

Starsky handed the phone back to Dobey and stood up.

"I'll be in the lab."

The dark haired detective went over to the lab and walked in to find Billings at a microscope. Billings was in his late 40's, with thinning ebony hair also graying at the temples and blue-gray eyes. He looked up when Starsky entered and smiled.

"You lucked out, Detective."

"How so?"

Billings picked up one of the pieces of Hutch's pig in an evidence bag and gave it to Starsky.

"They wiped the outside of the pig, but not the inside. Nine point match to one James Witherspoon."

"Witherspoon?" Starsky was a little disappointed it wasn't Rosetti himself, but Witherspoon was a good close second. So Rosetti had used the ex-federal agents to do his dirty work. It made sense. But it still didn't solve the dilemma of finding Guitterez or Witherspoon or Rosetti. He turned his attention back to Billings as the lab specialist threw another bag at him.

"The buffalo head nickel you found. Reynoldo Rosetti. Seven point match."

"So that puts him at the crime scene. Now we just have to find him."

"Can't help you there, Starsky. Fingerprints don't come with addresses."

"Too bad. Thanks, Billings. You've been a big help." Starsky put the evidence bags down and left the lab. He returned to Metro and went to the computer room. He caught Minnie, a slim dark haired woman wearing dark rimmed glasses.

"Minnie, I got a job for you."

"Anything for you, Starsky, honey. Name it."

"A robbery of a collection of buffalo head nickels. It would have happened about 12-15 years ago. The victims were named Hudson. We don't know who the perp was. And put a rush on it, please. It's important."

"You got it." Then she changed the subject. "How's that blond partner of yours doing?"

"Much better. He'll probably go home in a couple of days."

"Glad to hear it. It's kinda strange seeing you without him."

"It's kinda strange for me, too. Thanks, Minnie."

He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek and then Starsky left the computer room. Returning to the squad room, he told Dobey about the fingerprints, then he returned to R and I to get the files on Rosetti and Suarez again to look again for a possible address.

"Hutchinson's partner, Starsky is getting too close, Mr. Rosetti." Rosetti's mole in the Metro told him over the phone. "He's been nosing around. I think he might have evidence that links you to the coin collection and Witherspoon to the warning you put on Hutchinson's desk. What do you want to do?"

"You don't do anything. Just keep an eye on him. I'll put someone on it. Detective Starsky will not be a problem when I get through with him."

Rosetti hung up the phone and turned to two of his goons. "Get one David Starsky, Hutchinson's partner, out of the way so we can get to Hutchinson and his wife. I can't afford for him to remind them where we first crossed paths."

"How?"

"I leave that up to you gentlemen. I don't want to know. Use Dr. Martinelli if you have to--"

"Poison him?" one of the goons asked.

"I didn't say kill him, did I?" Rosetti snapped. "Just sideline him. I'm sure the good doctor will have something to cause breathing problems for Sargeant Starsky. He still has some issues with that from being plugged with three bullets in the chest a few years ago. That's all we need."

"Yes, boss--" the henchmen left the room. Rosetti rubbed his hands together and smiled malevolently.

Starsky sat back in his chair and drank down the rest of his lukewarm coffee. As before, there were no clues in the files of a current address for Rosetti. He just had to wait for Minnie to call. Again as if on cue, the phone at his elbow rang. He swept the receiver up to his ear after pressing the flashing button.

"Starsky--"

"Hi, Starsky, honey--" Minnie's voice came through the wires.

"Minnie, whatcha got?"

"Gold—pure gold. That robbery wasn't just a robbery. You've opened up a cold case of murder."

"Tell me--"

"The coins were stolen from the Hudson family and the thief shot the grandfather who was living with them. He died two days later in the hospital."

"Terrific. Can you bring up the case file?"

"On my way."

Starsky dumped the receiver back in the cradle—only to have the phone ring once more. He punched down the button and clamped the receiver to his ear again.

"Starsky--"

"Dave—hi, it's Jill. I just remembered something from the Suarez case you ought to know. The Hudson's—Mr. Hudson's father was living with them, too. He came up on the thief as he was getting away and the thief shot him. The police questioned Orlando about both the theft and the murder, but they let him go for lack of evidence."

"Yeah, I just found about the murder from Minnie. So it looks like Rosetti doesn't want you to recall what you know about this murder which kinda implicates him in it. That's a good reason to shut you up-permanently."

"What do you want me to do?" her voice shook with fear.

"Stay put. I'll come over and get you and bring you to the station to talk to the Captain again. We'll decide the best action to take."

"Okay. See you soon."

Starsky hung up the phone and jumped up from his chair to knock on Dobey's door. There was no answering 'come in', but Starsky opened the door anyway and peeked in. The captain was not in his office. Starsky went in and scribbled out a note to leave on Dobey's desk, then he returned to the squad room. As he came out of the office, Minnie walked into the squad room and crossed over to him to hand him the case file.

"There it is. Hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks, Min. You've been a big help."

Starsky sat down and surveyed the file briefly, then he closed it and jumped up from his seat again. He left the squad room and took the stairs two at a time down to the first floor and left the precinct.

The Torino screeched to a halt under a shade tree to protect the car from the hot California sun near the Hutchinson's apartment and Starsky got out. A string of bushes fanned out from the tree and, as he started for the apartment, suddenly Guitterez materialized out of the shrubbery and stood in front of him, grinning.

"Hello, Detective Starsky--"

"Agent Guitterez- or should I say former agent Guitterez. I've been looking for you."

"Really? Looks like you found me. So you found out my little secret. Too bad you won't be around to tell anybody about it." Suddenly the former FBI agent bent his head and smashed into Starsky's stomach in a sucker punch that caught the dark haired detective off guard. Two other men came out of the bushes and one caught the stunned Starsky in his arms while the other one plucked a syringe out of his pocket, pulled up the sleeve to Starsky's jacket and plunged the contents of the syringe into his arm before the dark haired detective could react. Starsky's world started to spin and then he was swallowed up in darkness.


	9. Chapter 10

_Author's note: I don't know if it's possible to make someone sick in the way I have described in the beginning of this chapter, but for the purpose of this story, it is._

_There is a brief adult themed love scene in this chapter. Please do not read if you are offended by such scenes._

_I'm sorry for the delay in posting this last chapter and epilogue. I had a minor surgical procedure and I've been distracted by getting ready for our vacation._

_Thank you all for all of your reviews. They urged me on to finish this story._

_And now for the exciting conclusion(at least I hope it is) g _

Chapter 10

Guitterez and the goons threw Starsky into the back seat of a blue sedan and jumped into the front seat.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Connelly called, racing across the parking lot from his station in front of the Hutchinson's apartment. The driver of the blue sedan pushed down hard on the accelerator and headed straight for the officer. Connelly peered into the windshield, trying to get a good look at the perpetrators, then he had to duck and roll to avoid being hit.With tires squealing the sedan raced out of the parking lot, fishtailing as it went at high jumped to his feet and pulled his gun to try to get a shot off, but by that time the car was too far away.He squinted at the blue sedan for a license number, but the car had a dealer's plate and he couldn't read it. The cop rushed up the stairs two at a time to skid to a halt in front of the Hutchinson's apartment. He pounded on the door. Jill opened it a moment later.

"Dave?-oh, Don."

"They've taken Starsky--"

"What?!" Jill's eyes widened and a hand flew up to her mouth. "What happened?"

"Three men just took Starsky. I saw him get out of his car and three goons were on him.They knocked him out somehow. Where's your phone?"

Jill indicated the phone on the coffee table and Connelly pushed past her while she shut the door. The cop dropped onto the sofa and picked up the receiver to punch in the number of the precinct. He barked into the phone when it was answered on the other end, "This is Connelly. Get me Dobey." When the Captain came on the line, he told him what had just happened. Dobey had more questions.

"Did you get a good look at them?"

"Just a vague look, sir. One appeared to be Hispanic. I couldn't tell about the other two. The car was coming toward me. I had to jump aside."

"What about the car? And the license plate?"

"It was a blue sedan, maybe a Ford or an Oldsmobile, '80 or '81. The license was a dealer plate. I couldn't get close enough to read it."

"They didn't fire at you?"

"No, Captain. I thought that was strange, too."

"If they were after Starsky, there'd be no reason to fire at you." Dobey mused, almost to himself so Connelly made no comment. "Okay, Connelly, I'll put out an APB on Starsky and the sedan. Get Jill down here now. We'll have to decide what to do next."

"Okay, Captain. We'll be right down." Connelly dropped the receiver back in the cradle. "We're going to the precinct."

"Huh?" Jill had remained standing at the door, still stunned by what Connelly had just told her. "Oh, yeah-" her voice shook with fear. New fears. She had always felt safe at home because she knew Connelly and Starsky were both there. Now Dave had been kidnapped,right under their noses, probably taken by Rosetti's men because he had gotten too close. "How-how did they know Dave was coming over here?"

"I don't know. They could have followed him--"

"No, Dave's too smart for that. Hutch told me he has an eagle eye when it comes to bad guys tailing them. He knows this city like the back of his hand. He can even take short cuts to get ahead of them." Then a more terrifying thought hit Jill. "Oh, my God! Rosetti knows where we live now."

"That's why Dobey wants you out of here."

"I-I'll have to go to a safe house, too, won't I? Like where they're going to send Hutch when he gets out of the hospital."

"We'll talk about it when we get to the station." Connelly replied noncommitally. They left the apartment, Connelly scanning the area around it for anything amiss while they walked down the stairs and crossed over to his car. Jill glanced over at the Torino still in the space where Dave had parked it and felt the cold hand of fear clutch at her heart. Dave was now in trouble, too, because of this whole mess with Rosetti. When would it end? Connelly held the door for Jill to get in, then he circled the cruiser and climbed in to start the engine and guided the car out of the parking lot.

Starsky fought his way to consciousness, his lungs struggling for air to fill them. He was drenched in sweat, his dark curls plastered to his forehead as a fever raged through him. He coughed, spitting out red brown sputum from his tortured lungs and shook with chills. Starsky recognized the symptoms. He had pneumonia. How had he contracted pneumonia? He hadn't had any vestige of a cold in the past few days so it hadn't been the usual way, but he knew from painful past experience he had it from his bouts with the disease after the Gunther shooting. Then vaguely Starsky remembered what had happened. Guitterez and his two goons had jumped him and injected something in his arm. He rubbed the still sore injection site as his eyes took in his surroundings. The room was small, probably no more than 8 by 10 and it was dank. It had obviously not been used in a while as the paint was peeling from the walls and some of the tiles on the floor were missing, revealing dirt underneath. He could hear the lapping of waves against the shore so he guessed he was somewhere near the docks. There were no bindings on his arms or legs so he tried to stand. The fever made him weak and he swayed. His legs felt like water. They didn't need to tie him up, Starsky thought. The pneumonia was just as effective in keeping him down. Finally he managed to struggle to his feet with the help of a nearby wall, but the effort took so much out of him, he had to lean against it for several minutes to catch his breath. But every breath rattled in his rib cage from the bacteria that had settled in his lungs. He looked around now for a way to escape. A narrow door sat opposite him. Starsky left the safety of the wall and stumbled toward the way out. Even though he guessed the door was secured somehow, it was worth a try. Halfway there he crumpled to the floor as darkness overtook him again.

Hutch's blue eyes popped open as he awoke from a deep sleep. There was no discernible noise or movement in his room, but something had awakened him. Glancing around,he didn't see Starsky or Jill either. He had waited patiently for their daily visit. Even though he had been in pain, he had asked the nurse to postpone his pain medication so he could talk to them with some lucidity. She had waited as long as she could, she had told him and then had given him the shot. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He knew his partner and his wife would be there, if they could. Something was preventing them from coming to the hospital. Feeling much stronger after this latest nap and driven on by his worry about his partner and his wife, Hutch threw the sheet back and gingerly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. So far, so good, he thought, surprised but gratified that his leg wound didn't protest. However, when he tried to stand up, a sharp pain shot through his left thigh when he put his full weight on his legs, so intense that he had to brace himself against the bed with his good arm. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Sergeant Hutchinson, what are you doing?" he hadn't heard the door behind him open and the red haired nurse come into the room. "Get back into that bed!" She rushed over and helped him back into the bed, pulling the sheet over the blond man again. As she checked the IV bag, Hutch asked:

"My wife-- and my partner. Were they here while I was asleep?"

"No, sir. They haven't been here today."

"Something's wrong. Sit me up, please. I need to make a phone call."

"Sergeant, you need to rest-" the nurse began, but Hutch cut her off.

"Dammit, sit me up or I'll get out of this bed again to find out what's going on! Please, I need your help." he hated to plead, but the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong was growing stronger. Hutch knew his threat to get out of bed again was not one the nurse would take lightly since he had already tried to make his escape from the hospital once. He heard her sigh and then she helped Hutch to a sitting position. She placed the phone next to him and left the room. Hutch picked up the receiver and punched in his own number. With every passing ring, his fears grew until he slammed the receiver back into the cradle after the twentieth ring. Where were Starsky and Jill? He calmed himself with the brief thought that maybe they were on their way to the hospital. There was a way to find out. He picked the receiver up again and punched in another familiar number. This time it was only two rings before there was an answer.

"Metro-this is Patterson."

"Hi, Rob, this is Hutch. Patch me through to Mildred, will you?"

"Sure. How are you doing, Hutch?"

"Better. Please, Rob, no small talk, huh? It's important. I have to talk to Starsky."

The officer made the connection and soon the dispatcher's familiar voice came over the line.

"Dispatch--"

"Mildred, Hutch. And before you ask, I'm better. Patch me through to Starsky."

The connection was made and several moments passed before Mildred came back on the line.

"Sorry, Hutch, he's not answering."

Now the fear was full blown. There definitely was something wrong! Unless... Starsky was playing one of his silly games and not responding on purpose.They had played that game with Dobey in the past.

"Try again, Mildred. Put me on." Mildred made the connection and Hutch said, "Zebra Three, come in." When there still wasn't a response, the blond man continued as he rubbed his forehead with his good hand in frustration, "Come on, Starsky. I'm not up to your games right now- pick up the damn microphone."

Again silence for a few moments and then Mildred cut in.

"Hutch, there isn't any response. He's not in his car."

Hutch sighed and pushed his good hand through his blond hair. "Okay. Then transfer me to Dobey."

Mildred patched him through and the phone was answered on the second ring.

"Dobey--"

"Cap'n, is Starsky there?" Dobey didn't reply right away and Hutch's heart fell to his feet as his worse fears were realized. "What happened? Oh, God, Starsky-and Jill!" he whispered, his voice strangled with fear.

"Hutch, Jill is all right. Connelly's bringing her over here."

"Oh, thank God for that!" Hutch closed his eyes in relief, but it was short lived when he realized he still had to find out what had happened to his partner. He held the phone in a death grip. "So what about Starsk?" The finely honed connection between them was causing alarm bells to go off in his head. He just knew his partner was in deep trouble. And here he was confined to a hospital bed, unable to help him.

"We think three of Rosetti's goons snatched him from your apartment complex. Connelly thought they knocked him out with something. He wasn't going willingly."

"Of course not. He wouldn't. And I'm in this damn hospital and can't do a damn thing about it." the blond detective pounded his good hand into the bed. "I knew something was wrong when they didn't come to visit. Any leads? Connelly was there. Did he see anything?"

"A very vague description. They tried to run him over with the car. One man was Hispanic. Did he mention anybody like that to you?"

Hutch thought for a moment, then a conversation he'd had with his partner came to mind. "He did mention a Fed named—uh—Guitterez. Said he had a feeling that he wasn't on the up and up. Maybe he's working for Rosetti."

"Guitterez? A Federal agent?!" then Captain Dobey remembered another conversation with Starsky-just yesterday. "He did wonder why Guitterez and Witherspoon weren't investigating the crime scene where we found Joe Rogers' body." the black man said more to himself then to Hutch, but he also revealed some information he had originally no intention of telling the blond man.

"Joe Rogers' body? He's dead?" Hutch asked, stunned at the news.

"Yes, Hutch. We found his body dumped on First this morning."

"Rosetti killed him so he couldn't testify. That means Jill and I are next on his list. And he took Starsky because he thinks he got too close." the blond man said.

"It looks that way. I've got every available man on this case, Hutch. And an APB out on Starsky and the car those goons were driving. We'll find Rosetti and Starsky."

Then Hutch heard a commotion in the background as he guessed someone came into the Captain's office. Dobey said, his voice warm,"There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Ken?" Jill's sweet familiar voice came through the wires and tears of relief stung Hutch's eyes.

"Jill, oh Jilly. Babe, are you all right?"

"I'm ok. But Dave-they took Dave." her voice shook.

"I know. The Captain told me. They'll find him, hon."

"It's all such a mess with Rosetti. Now Dave's in trouble, too. When will it end, Hutch?" the blond man's heart twisted at her question. Here she was, asking him for an answer when he had no answers to give her. But he did his best to reassure his wife.

"Soon, hon. The Captain's got the whole police force out looking for Starsky. With that many people we're sure to find him. Remember what you promised me? You'll do everything the Captain tells you to do? I need you to do that now more than ever, ok?" he realized he was talking to her like he would a child and, in normal circumstances, she would bristle and tell him to stop treating her like that, but these were not normal circumstances and both of them knew it.

"I will, Ken. I love you."

"I love you, too, Jilly," his voice broke on the nickname. "I miss you, babe."

"I miss you. I'm sorry we didn't make it to the hospital today. Dave and I were going to come after my visit to the office, but then--" her voice trailed off and Hutch heard a small sob escape her.

"It's going to be ok, hon." his voice was hoarse with fear...concern...pain. But most of all, love. "It's going to be ok. God, I wish I could crawl right through this telephone line and hold you."

"Me, too." Jill couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Through her quiet sobs, she continued, "I love you so much, Ken."

"I love you, too. Honey, please don't cry." But that plea only made the tears fall faster. Then Hutch heard a plaintive "No!" and a scuffle as the phone was apparently taken from his wife. Dobey said into the phone,

"We'll take care of her, Hutch."

It broke Hutch's heart to still hear his wife crying in the background, but he could tell she wasn't up to talking any more. "Do that, Cap'n. She's--" his voice trailed off.

"I know, Hutchinson. I feel the same way about Edith." The two men shared a silent moment of quiet understanding, both overwhelmed by their common feelings. Then the black man cleared his throat and changed the subject. "We'll let you know what we decide to do about this situation. And the minute we find Starsky, we'll let you know."

"Thanks. Talk to you later then."

Hutch hung up the phone and laid back against the pillows. Now that he knew Jill was safe, he could turn his thoughts to his partner. 'Where are you, Starsk? Hang on, buddy, they'll find you.'

"So where are you going to send me, Captain?" Jill asked when Dobey had hung up the phone.

"I called the hospital this morning and talked to the doctor treating Hutch—and you. He would prefer that he stay in a medical facility for a few more days, just to be safe. And he still wants you to rest. There's a private secluded hospital in Lawndale that we're checking out. We'll try to get you two in there."

"Then we won't have to be separated?" Jill asked hopefully, her pleading green eyes locked on to his brown ones. Her greatest fear was banished by the Captain's answer.

"You'll go under heavy guard and nobody will know about it. Under those circumstances, yes, I think you can stay together."

"Thank you, Captain Dobey." she moved over to the Captain and kissed him on the cheek. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat.

"Yes, well-- go back to your apartment with Connelly and pack some things. He'll bring you back here and we'll go from there."

Jill and Connelly left the office.

Starsky _was_ hanging on—but just barely. He awoke again to find himself face down in the dirt. He had landed on a spot on the floor where the tiles were missing. Sweat from the fever raging through him was blinding him and Starsky wiped his eyes with the back of his hand as he struggled to sit up. The change in his center of gravity sent his head spinning and brought on another round of coughing. He expelled more brown sputum. This was bad, he thought. This was really bad. He felt like hell. He had to get to a hospital. No, there was something else he had to do first. Then he remembered. He had to get to Hutch. He had to warn him about Rosetti. The coin he had found at the crime scene proved Rosetti had killed Joe Rogers. Hutch and Jill were next on his list. Hutch was in the hospital. Starsky's fevered thoughts richoched through his brain, causing his head to hurt even more. He crawled over to the wall and pulled himself to a standing position. He could hear the mumble of voices on the other side, but no words were clear enough to catch. Starsky thought he heard 'pig' and 'bum', but, in his feverish state, he couldn't be sure. He wiped more sweat from his brow and tried to focus on the door opposite him—or was it doors? He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again to clear his double vision. No, there was just one door, he concluded. He stumbled toward it and pushed against it with all of his strength—which wasn't much. At the same time the door opened from the other way, sending Starsky sprawling. He was caught and he wiped away the sweat in his eyes to look up into the face of Guitterez.

"Sergeant Starsky, so glad you could join us again."

"Guitterez. Wh-what did you give me?" Starsky grabbed the front of Guitterez's shirt in an attempt to intimidate him, but in his weakened state all Starsky managed to do was hold on so he wouldn't fall.

"Oh, the shot? You haven't figured it out yet?"

"All I can figure out is somehow you gave me pneumonia." Starsky swept his hand over his eyes again to wipe away more sweat.

"Very good, Detective."

"So you're gonna hold me here until I...it's an unusual way to murder a cop, I must say. Rosetti think of it?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But you are free to go anytime, Sergeant Starsky. I came in here to tell you that. Walk out the door right now, if you wish."

"I's a trick. The minute I turn my back you're gonna shoot me."

"No trick. Do you feel a gun? I'm unarmed, Detective." Guitterez stood Starsky against a nearby wall to hold him up and the former agent unbuttoned his shirt and then pulled it out of his pants. He slowly turned around to show the dark haired officer he was not carrying a piece.

"Don't understand. You lettin' me go? I know who you are. I know what you done. I can tell..."

"Yes, you can. But by the time you get the medical attention you need and can tell anybody, I'll be long gone. So

good-bye, Sergeant Starsky. I'll even help you to the outside door." Guitterez slung his arm around Starsky's shoulders and dragged him to the outside door of the warehouse. He pushed him outside and closed the door behind the dark haired detective. Starsky stood there for a moment, letting the late afternoon breeze off the ocean cool his fevered brow, then he looked around to get his bearings. He was indeed near the docks and he stumbled down the alleyway leading away from the warehouse prison. Starsky tried to clear his muddled mind to form a plan of action. His car. He had to get to the Torino. To call in so someone could come out and pick him up to take him to the hospital. Then he remembered. Rosetti's goons had taken him out of his car at Hutch's. _Hutch!_ Hutch was in danger...and so was Jill. That was another reason why he had to get to a phone..to warn them. Starsky lurched down more alleyways until he came to a street. He spotted a pay phone on the corner and stumbled toward it. Digging in his pocket for change, he slipped the coin in and tried to focus on the punchpad to see the numbers, but the sweat was now pouring down his face from both the fever and the exertion of his escape and he was shaking from chills that suddenly came upon him. He swiped the perspiration away and tentatively punched in the number of the precinct.

"Metro—this is Patterson."

"Patterson, Starsky. Get me Dobey--"

That's all Starsky managed to say before he collapsed again, dropping in a heap to the floor of the phone booth.

Jill arrived first at the St. Monica hospital in Lawndale. The Benedictine nuns who ran it greeted her warmly and she was directed to a room on the top floor, affording her a view of the ocean. The room was bathed in the late afternoon sun and could have passed for a hotel room—except for the medical equipment stashed in the corner.

At the sight of the two beds pushed together, her insides jangled in anticipation of sleeping next to Hutch tonight. She would finally lay snuggled against his long, lean body again, a luxury she realized she had sorely missed since last Tuesday. God, had it really been almost a week? It felt like they had slept apart longer than that. Hanging up her clothes in the closet, Jill sank down in the only chair and glanced at her watch. 6 o'clock. Hutch was coming in under the cover of darkness for his safety so it would be a few hours. She read the book she had brought with her until her stomach growled. Since she knew she had time, she went down to the cafeteria and ate, then returned to the room. Now shadows were lurking in the corners as she watched the sun brush the sky with orange and pink strokes and sink below the horizon, then darkness fell and Jill's anticipation grew. As she pulled her dress over her head and her underwear off, she stood there for a moment, deciding whether she should slip under the sheets naked or slip into a nightgown, then settled on the latter with a sigh. With his wounds Hutch would not be up to lovemaking and seeing her naked and knowing he couldn't take advantage of it would only remind him of his temporary disability. She pulled the nightgown over her body and smoothed it down, her own hands calming the pulse of excitement she'd had at the thought of her husband's hands on her body. Groaning, she climbed into the second bed and propped herself up with pillows to continue reading while she waited. But she grew weary from the tension of the day and her eyelids drooped, followed by several yawns. She fought to keep her eyes open, but lost the battle. Jill settled back against the pillows and was sound asleep within minutes.

Why do all hospitals have the same tile ceilings, Hutch wondered as the orderly wheeled him down the hallway to the room at St. Monica's.He hated hospitals. Maybe this one wouldn't be so bad. At least in this hospital, he could be with Jill, sleep by her side. That was something. He smiled at the thought. He hadn't seen her since yesterday morning and he was hoping they could talk at least for a little while before they both fell asleep from the effects of their respective medications. But his hopes were dashed when the orderly transferred him from the gurney to the hospital bed, with IV's and other machines and all, while he whispered,

"Jill?" and there was no answer. After the orderly left the room, Hutch raised his head from the pillow and glanced over at his wife. She was sleeping peacefully, her face bathed in moonlight, giving her an ethereal glow.

The shadows under her eyes and the worry lines about him were gone. Her red gold hair was spread out on the pillow like a halo. At first he thought she was sleeping in the nude as he saw a bare shoulder peeking out from under the sheet and his body hardened in respose, then he realized there was the slightest hint of a sleeve. Oh, well, I couldn't do anything anyway with a bum arm and leg. He sank back onto the pillow and turned over on his right side, spooning against Jill's back. She stirred at the touch, but didn't awaken. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Starsky! Come on, son, wake up--" Captain Dobey said as he patted the detective's face. He had dragged him out of the phone booth where they had found him and he was lying on the ground. He was alarmed at the sight of the dark half of his dynamic duo detective team. His hair was plastered to his forehead and the Captain could tell the man had a raging fever from touching his skin. But even in his unconscious state he was shivering with chills.

Starsky swatted at the hand drawing him from consciousness.

"Wha-? G'way. I wanna sleep--" he mumbled as his indigo blue eyes fluttered, refusing to open at first, then finally giving in to the inevitable. They opened into the worried brown eyes of his Captain. "Cap'n, what are you doing here?" Starsky sat up with the Captain's help and looked around. "Where is here? Where am I?" His eyes finally focused on all of the black and whites surrounding the site and he blinked to clear his vision.

"Near the docks. Do you remember anything about what happened?" the black man asked, worried that the detective wouldn't.

"Yeah-G-Guitterez. He injected me. Pneumonia. I've got pneumonia--" Starsky's voice trailed off as he shook with chills again and coughed, bringing up another plug of brown sputum. "My lungs--"

"Yeah, we got him, trying to escape. An ambulance is on the way. You just rest easy. Miller, get a blanket out of the car for Detective Starsky."

"Ho-how'd you find me?"

"You dropped the receiver on the phone when you passed out and it was off the hook long enough for us to trace it."

As Miller draped the blanket around the dark haired detective's shoulders, suddenly he remembered the reason he was in this situation in the first place and he tried to stand.

"Hutch! And Jill!" Starsky stumbled and Captain Dobey caught him.

"They're in a safe location. No one knows about it but me."

"I gotta get to them—watch his back—and Jill's. I promised him--" he tried to escape from the Captain's hold, but in his weakened feverish state, he swayed and landed on his bottom.

"You're goin' to the hospital. You can't do them any good in the condition your're in." Captain Dobey leaned over and took Starsky by the arm to draw him to his feet again.

"But--"

"You've already done enough, son. You lead us to Guitterez. He's singing like a canary. Hopefully he'll lead us to Rosetti and soon all of this will be over."

The screech of a siren pierced the night air as the ambulance slammed to a halt next to a black and white. Starsky was placed on a stretcher by the paramedics in no time, an oxygen mask clamped over his nose and mouth to help him breathe. The ambulance with sirens blaring pulled away from the docks and headed for the hospital.

Jill woke up just as the fingers of dawn painted the sky bright red-orange through the blinds. A warm and pleasant weight was pushed up against her and she looked over her shoulder to find Hutch spooned to her body.

She smiled and turned over on her other side to cup his beard roughened cheek in her hand, then used a finger to tweak the mustache above his lip. He stirred and his ice blue eyes slowly opened.

"G'mornin--" his whole face broke into a grin and his eyes filled with love for her.

"'Mornin'—how are you feeling?" her voice was heavy with concern.

"Better—now that you're here." Any more words were cut off by his smothering kiss that sent shivers down to her toes. She snaked her hands under his hospital gown and her arms wound around him to explore the dips and curves of his back, gently massaging, kneading his skin. He moaned at her touch. "Oh, Jill, that feels so good."

he breathed out on a sigh. She continued her ministrations, slowly moving her hands down to his butt, caressing, petting, remembering last Tuesday when she had watched that same butt disappear into the bathroom while she was on the phone with Gretchen after their aborted lovemaking. She watched as his eyes widened in surprise and she smiled. She had learned so much from this man about pleasing him over the time they had been together because he had been so open about it and she had become straightforward, too, telling him what she liked, even though she had to overcome some embarrassment about talking about sex at first.

"If you'll let me, I'll make you feel even better." she replied suggestively, searching the depths of those eyes she loved so much for his consent. She would stop if he indicated he wasn't up to this.He didn't protest so she continued. She sneaked her hand around to the front of his body and it brushed the flesh between his thighs. She felt the hard evidence of the results of her ministrations already. He was 'up to it'. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and slowly slid it up and down as his rod pulsed and hardened even more. Her heart pounded in her chest at the pleasure she knew she was giving him. Her smile grew as Ken carefully flopped over on his back, mindful of his wounds, to give her greater access. While there was a twinge in his shoulder as he did it, the pleasure she was giving him far outweighed the pain.

"Oh, God, Jill!" Hutch murmured, his blue eyes shuttering and his body jerking from the succor of her hand, causing another stab of pain from his thigh, but he barely noticed. She moved her hand further down to fondle the jewels underneath and a groan escaped Hutch's lips. It seemed like it had been forever since he had felt her hands on his body so when she moved her hand back up to caress him again, he lost control. He crested, panting her name. When his breathing returned to normal, Hutch pulled her face to his to press his lips against hers. She drank in the sweetness of the caress, drank in the sweetness of him. When he pulled away, he cupped her face in his large hand and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. There was regret in the depths of his blue eyes as he said, "I'm sorry I can't return the favor." He gave her a rueful smile.

"Don't worry about it. We're not keeping score here. I know my time will come when you're better."

"Count on it." his blue eyes burned with the passion she had aroused in him—and in anticipation of loving her.

They laid in silence for a long moment, still touching, still connected until one of the nuns came in.

"Good morning, Sergeant Hutchinson, Mrs. Hutchinson. I'm Sister Esther and I'll be your nurse while you're here." She was an older woman with steel gray hair peeking out from her wimple and kind blue eyes. She went to work on Hutch, taking his vital signs, checking the IV and other machines while Jill got up from the bed, gathered up some clothes and went into the bathroom to splash water on her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw she was flushed from the exertion of their lovemaking. She hoped the nurse hadn't noticed. Somehow it was more embarrassing to be 'caught' by a nun than a regular person. She took off her nightgown and pulled on a pair of jeans and a blue and white polo shirt. Jill picked up her nightgown and returned to the room. As she looked around for the nurse, Ken said from the bed where he was now sitting up, pillows behind his back.

"She went to get breakfast. And she said they were going to get me out of bed this afternoon to walk around."

"That's great, babe."

"Yeah, finally."

"What finally? From what I heard you've already tried a couple of times to get out of that bed and tore your stitches in the process." she teased him.

"And both times I had good reasons to get up." he shot back. "Namely to get to you." he grinned at her, the smile

she was sure he had used on countless other women, but now was saved especially for her. Since no one was allowed to visit them here, they kept each other company and talked together through breakfast. About an hour afterwards, they both took their medications and fell asleep again.

"We've lost them, boss--" one of Rosetti's goons told him as he was enjoying his breakfast. The mobster stabbed a link of sausage and waved it at his henchman as he sat in the dining room of his second safe house. In his business it was always a good idea to move around so his enemies couldn't find him.

"They're hiding. Find out where and there will be a $5000 bonus in it for you. Start with our mole at Metro." Rosetti stuffed the sausage in his mouth and picked up another link.

"We already did. He doesn't know anything. This one is real hush-hush. But he did tell us the cops found Hutchinson's partner last night, but he's so out of it, he ain't talking."

"But he won't be out of it forever." Rosetti munched on the second piece of sausage thoughtfully. "We're racing against time here, gentlemen. If Starsky recovers enough and gets to Hutchinson, then our edge is gone—and we will be forced to deal with Detective Starsky more harshly."

"What about Guitterez? The word is he's singing like a canary so he can deal."

"Guitterez is not your concern. I've already instructed my lawyer to take care of him. Your number one priority is to find that blond cop and his wife and do it before his partner does."

"Yes, sir--"

"Hutch!" Starsky woke up with his partner's name on his lips, a last remnant of a dream—well, actually a nightmare—when he saw Rosetti blow the blond man away. His outburst startled the nurse who was checking his vital signs. His fever had gone down substantially, but his temperature was still hovering around 101 so his dark curls still stuck to his forehead. He coughed, the rattle in his lungs still evident, but the antibiotics in the IV was slowly chasing the bacteria away. His face was still pale and drawn.

"Sergeant Starsky?" the nurse shook him to complete wakefulness.

"Huh?" his indigo eyes fluttered open and met the nurse's hazel ones, not his partner's icy blue ones. "You're not Hutch."

"No, sorry. Do you feel like eating? It's noon."

"No. Where's Hutch?" he looked around the room, expecting his partner to be there. Whenever one of them had been sick or hurt before, the hospital staff always let the other one stay with the injured partner.

"Who is Hutch?" the nurse asked.

"My partner! Ken Hutchinson. He has to be here. He's always here. I'm sick so he has to be here."

The nurse was still puzzled, thinking his ramblings were the result of his high fever. Then the door behind them opened and Captain Dobey, holding a cup of coffee, stepped into the room. As he crossed over to the bed, the nurse said, "He's asking about a Ken Hutchinson."

"Yeah. I'll take care of it." the big man put his hand on Starsky' shoulder. "It's me, Starsky. Captain Dobey."

"Cap'n?" he doubled over as a coughing fit took hold and prevented him from saying anything else for a few moments.

"Well, I was goin' to ask you how you were, but I guess that's my answer. Take it easy, son."

"Where's Hutch? Why isn't he here?" the black man's hand was some comfort, but it was not Hutch's hand. Somehow the blond's large hand on his shoulder offered a solace nothing else did. Thinking of Hutch calmed his cough better than any medication.

"I told you, they're safe. Both Hutch and Jill."

"But why aren't they here?" Then his fevered brain cleared and he remembered. The warehouse. Being shot up with this bacteria still coursing through him. "Rosetti. They're hiding from Rosetti."

Captain Dobey nodded. "Do you remember anything else now? Did you hear anything? Names? Plans?"

"I was a little out of it, Cap'n. I don't remember much-"  
"Try, Starsky. This might be the best way you can help Hutch right now."

Well, when he put it that way...the dark haired cop racked his brain to try to recall something...anything. He had to help Hutch. "They were still calling Hutch 'pig'. I assumed they were talking to Rosetti since he seemed to be the one getting off on calling Blondie that. And at one point I heard 'bum'. But I don't know who they were talking about."

"Bum? Could have been a bum in that alley where we found you." Then another more ominous thought struck Dobey. "Bomb?Are you sure it wasn't bomb? Didn't we talk about that from Rosetti's file? He likes to blow things—and people up."

"Don't all mobsters do that? At least they do in the movies. I really don't know, Cap'n." Starsky rubbed his forehead and then scrubbed his face with his hand. Dobey could see the fatigue in the depths of his blue eyes.

He patted Starsky on the arm.

"All right. That's enough for now. You get some rest."

Captain Dobey left the room and Starsky settled down for a nap.

Later that afternoon Sister Esther returned to the Hutchinson's room, interrupting Hutch and Jill as they talked.

"Excuse me, Sergeant Hutchinson, but we are going to get you out of that bed to take a few steps down the hall."

"I'm ready. I've been in beds too damn long." He tossed the sheet back and swung his long legs over the edge of the bed carefully. With Jill and the Sister helping him, he rose from the bed, gingerly shifting his weight to his left leg. A brief shot of pain tore through it and he grimaced. But he was on his feet and he was determined to stay that way as long as they would let him. He was also determined to do something else he had wanted to do since he was shot. Hutch slipped his left arm out of the sling briefly and slid both arms around Jill, his left arm still awkward, to hug her. He pressed his long,lean body against her and bent down to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling the hair around it, sending chills down her spine. "God, I've wanted to hold you like this for the longest time."

She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love. "I know. Me, too." as she squeezed him lightly, still afraid she was going to hurt him. They pulled apart and Sister Esther took his right arm to guide him out of the room, passing the plain clothes cop sitting outside. Hutch walked down the hall a few steps, Jill bringing up the rear. By the time Hutch returned to the room, he was out of breath and a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out on his forehead, but the nun was very pleased with his progress.

"Very good, Detective. You are coming along great." she said as she and Jill aided Hutch back into the bed. He sank against the pillow and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Sister Esther left the room to get their next dose of medication and Jill sat down in the chair next to his bed.

"You feel okay? Does anything hurt, hon?" she asked anxiously, seeing a grimace cross his face as he shifted.

"The leg does, a little. But hey, I walked on it, huh? First steps to getting out of this place."

"Yes, you did. I'm so proud of you, but don't rush it, Ken. And you know why we have to stay here." A shadow flitted across her face as her happiness was tempered by the danger that Rosetti still posed for them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way." he lifted his good hand to caress her cheek in apology. "They'll find him, Jill. Even though Starsk isn't in on the search, they'll find Rosetti. The whole force is out looking for him."

She sensed his sadness and worry when he mentioned his partner.

"You miss Dave, don't you?"

"I hate this,not knowing where he is. If he's all right. He's always been there for me when I was hurt or sick just like I've been there for him when he was. Not knowing is just..." his voice trailed off when Sister Esther came back into the room and made sure both of her patients took their medications. When she left, Jill slid her hand into Hutch's large one and squeezed.

"I'm sure he's all right--" she said with more conviction than she actually felt. She was worried, too.

"Yeah. I think I would sense it if he was--" Hutch couldn't finish the thought, but Jill knew what he couldn't bring himself to say. Dead. He knew Starsky wasn't dead. They were so close and so connected she didn't doubt that instinct. Dave had told her and Dobey the same thing when the blond was laying in Memorial a few days ago. They talked for a while longer until both of them felt the effects of their medication and fell asleep.

Over the next three days Sister Esther got Hutch out of bed to walk and every day he walked a little further down the hall with less and less exertion. The doctor cleared Jill from her resting schedule and stopped her medication, but she wasn't allowed to go home and stayed with her husband.

"Mr. Rosetti, we've located Hutchinson and his wife. They're at a private hospital in Lawndale called St. Monica's-" one of Rosetti's goons told him late on the third night.

"Good work. Then we'll strike tomorrow. Is everything ready?"

"Yes, sir. You just name the time and we'll set it up."

"Eleven o'clock in the morning has always been a good time for a hit." then he changed the subject. "Get Barsini in here. I want to talk to him." The goon left the room. The mobster touched a match to the end of a cigar and puffed on it, watching as the rings of smoke drifted above him, lost in his own thoughts. When the door opened, he greeted his lawyer and right hand man, "Barsini, come in, come in. Please shut the door behind you." Tony Barsini was a big man, with jet black hair and hard black eyes. He crossed over to Rosetti.

"Reynoldo--" he replied.

"Are all of my debts paid and my personal affairs in order?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Then if something goes wrong tomorrow, everything will be settled."

"You've been planning this hit for weeks. What could go wrong?"

"What indeed? But you never know--" Rosetti paused, a far away look in his eyes, then he shook himself out of his reverie and continued, "That'll be all, Tony."

After the lawyer left the room, Rosetti sat back in his chair to muse: 'What indeed, huh, Orlando?' he lifted his eyes heavenward

"Cap'n, where are they?" Starsky demanded to know the next morning as he flung the covers back on the bed and got to his feet. After three days in bed, fighting off the bacteria in his lungs with strong doses of antibiotics, he was no longer coughing and his temperature was a more normal 99. He was, however, still weak and he swayed on his feet, grabbing the side of the bed to right himself. "I woke up with a bad feeling this morning. Something is going down today. I feel it. You gotta tell me where they are so I can go to them."

"You aren't _going_ anywhere. You're still not well--" Dobey roared back at him, sidestepping Starsky's question.

"Where in the hell are Hutch and Jill?" he shouted. "Dammit, I'll call every hospital and safe house we have in this city!" Starsky knew that would get a rise out of the Captain since calling a safe house could blow the cover of too many people. His superior hesitated and the dark haired cop reached for the phone. "I'll do it, Cap'n."

Captain Dobey sighed. He should have known better than to try to keep his dynamic duo of detectives apart, especially when one was in danger, but truth be told, he was trying to keep Starsky safe, though the dark haired man would never believe that.

"All right. They aren't in Bay City. They're in Lawndale at a private hospital called St. Monica's. It's on Pacific Blvd."

"Thanks." Without even stopping to change from his hospital gown into clothes, just pulling on his sneakers and his watch, he rushed out of the room. Captain Dobey sent up a silent prayer that whatever Starsky sensed was going down today, he would get to his partner and his wife in time to prevent it.

The first thing Hutch noticed when he came around the corner after taking his morning walk down the hallway was that the cop in front of his room was missing.

Instinct kicked in. Something was wrong.

"Jill—Sister, stay here--" he commanded them. Jill knew that tone—his full cop mode-- and obeyed immediately, stopping in her tracks. The nun also stopped, also sensing the blond's trepidation. Jill looked up at Hutch, her face blanching in fear.

"What is it, Hutch?"

"I don't know. The guard's gone. Something's wrong."

"Be careful--" she grabbed his good arm and squeezed as he started to head for their room. He stopped and bent down to kiss her with savage intensity as if he was afraid this would be the last kiss they would ever share. Jill felt the fear and responded with her own, savoring the pressure of his lips against hers. When they parted, both of them had to take a moment to catch their breath.

Hutch crept toward the room and slowly opened the door. The cop was inside, slumped on the floor. The blond leaned down and felt for a pulse in his neck. Only unconscious, Hutch determined. It was strong.

Then Hutch saw it.

A replica of his ceramic pig in the middle of the room. As he had been told it was in the squad room, the head was broken off. He saw a piece of paper stuffed into the hole. Moving closer, he read two words.

'For Orlando.'

Then he noticed something else.

There was a bomb wrapped around it. The mechanism had a timer attached to it. It was set for 11 o'clock.

The blond glanced up at the clock in the room.

It was 10:52

He had eight minutes.

Not enough time for the bomb squad to arrive.

And there was no way they could evacuate the building either.

And Jill was here...the most important person in his life. He had to save her.

How could he get the bomb to a place where it would do the least damage?

Hutch explored the possibilities quickly in his mind, then settled on one.

He moved over to pick up the rigged pig carefully and limped out of the room, his leg beginning to throb. He didn't know if it was from the exercise he had just had or from the stressful situation he had suddenly found himself in. Probably both. He called out to Sister Esther.

"Sister, where is the nearest service elevator?"

"What?" she had heard the question, but couldn't understand for the life of her why he was asking.

"The service elevator. Where is it?" he asked again, then added, "This is a bomb, Sister."

Jill gasped and her face drained of all color as her hand went up to her mouth to cover a silent scream. A bomb.

Hutch was carrying a bomb..a bomb that coud go off at any time. Killing him and her and all of the innocent people in the hospital. Now she realized this was Rosetti's plan. He _was_ a monster.

"It's around the corner and down at the end of the hallway." Jill heard the nun answer.

"All right. Everyone get down on the floor." Hutch took charge of the situation, his commanding tone ringing out.

"It's set to go off in eight minutes, but it could go off sooner. Just stay down. I'm going to send it down to the garage."

Hutch followed the nun's directions and moved as fast as he could to the service elevator, dragging his left leg which was now throbbing incesently from the overexertion. He punched the down button and, when the elevator cab door opened, there was a janitor inside, pulling a huge trash bin behind him.

"Get the hell out of there!" the blond cop screamed at him.

"This ain't my floor--" the janitor began, but Hutch pulled him out of the cab with one arm, his left one. He felt his stiches separate and a warm sensation as blood seeped out of the wound, but he ignored it.

"It is now—I'm a cop!"

"Yeah? Where's your badge?"

"I don't have it. I'm in a hospital, for God's sake. You'll just have to take my word for it."

The blond cop had been so focused on getting the innocent bystander out that he didn't notice the man behind the janitor...until he saw the gun leveled at his middle.

"Hold it right there, Detective--"

Hutch looked into the malevolent eyes of Reynoldo Rosetti. The mobster had a few more lines on his face and the glint in his eye was wild, almost crazy, but he had changed little since the blond had arrested him all of those years ago.

Rosetti continued, "Nice try, Sergeant, but you aren't going to ruin my plans now. Orlando deserves more." he picked Jill out from the people on the floor and shifted his arm to train the gun on her. "Get up, Mrs. Hutchinson and join your husband."

Jill rose from the floor and moved over to Hutch. Her green eyes searched out his icy blue ones, sheer terror turning them a dark emerald. He dipped his head, telling her to comply with the mobster's wishes.

"You're going to blow up all of these innocent people along with us?" Hutch tried to reason with Rosetti. "They never did anything to Orlando."

"No, Sergeant, you and your wife are goin' along with me."

"Along with you?" Hutch echoed. "Where?"

"We're all goin' to see Orlando. You took him from me, but we'll all be with him soon."

Hutch closed his eyes as Rosetti's words sunk in. Oh, God, he was going to blow himself up- commit suicide. And with nothing to lose, he didn't care who he took with him. The man had gone over the edge. This dangerous situation had just taken a huge turn to critical. All of the people in this hospital—innocent bystanders—were going to die because of a maniacal, unhinged mobster's grudge against Jill and him.

"Get in the elevator." Rosetti moved over to Hutch to stab him in his middle with the barrel of the gun and pushed him into the elevator, then he motioned for Jill to join him.

Hutch glanced down at the timer.

Four minutes.

Probably just enough time for the elevator to reach the garage level before--

He weighed his options. He was still holding the bomb. Any sudden moves he made-like kicking or punching Rosetti- could possibly set it off: he didn't know if it had a hair trigger. Even if he dropped it to the floor, it could go off. He was not willing to take that chance when there were innocent bystanders. And there was also the matter of his wounds. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

Come on, Starsky, now would be a good time for you to show up, he thought ruefully. But he knew his partner wouldn't show this time. He didn't know where they were and Starsky was in the hands of Rosetti's goons. He closed his eyes.

"Hold it, Rosetti!" a familiar voice snapped and Hutch's blue eyes popped open, not believing what he had just heard. There was Starsky, dressed in a hospital gown with those dirty sneakers on, calmly holding a gun on the mobster. He had to blink once to make sure his partner was really there or if he had just conjured him up from his subconscious. No, it was Starsky. But he didn't look well. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his breath was coming hard and fast as if he had run up several flights of stairs. What had happened to him, Hutch wondered? That would have to wait. Right now he was never so glad to see his partner. But of course that still didn't resolve this predicament.

The clock was still ticking on the bomb in his hands.

"Sergeant Starsky, I presume. Well, well, didn't you make a remarkable recovery?" Rosetti sneered.

"Yeah, didn't I? Put the gun down, Rosetti." the gun wavered a bit in Starsky's hand as he fought off a wave of dizziness. Being vertical after several days in a hospital bed did wreak havoc with your equilibrium. And the situation didn't help matters, either.

"Even if I do that, Sergeant, you still haven't solved the problem of the bomb in your partner's hand. All of these people will go up with Sergeant Hutchinson and his lovely bride. Do you really want that on your conscience?" the mobster drawled.

Starsky locked eyes with his partner's—indigo blue on icy blue. They communicated silently.

"_He's right, you know. He could stall until the bomb goes off and take all of us with it."_

"_So what do you want to do?"_

Hutch caught Sister Esther's eyes. They were filled with terror, but he also saw a glint of determination. This nun was not going out without a fight. He had to bite back a smile. Instead he almost imperceptibly cocked his head to one side, indicating one of the gurneys in the hallway. She nodded in understanding and pushed the stretcher into the wall, causing a distraction. Rosetti looked in that direction.

It was enough.

Hutch heard the boom of Starsky's gun and Jill screamed. Rosetti fell, an ever widening circle of blood staining the front of his shirt.

Starsky rushed over to the mobster and, while still holding his gun on him, bent to check for a pulse.

"He's dead." he announced. Hutch and Jill rushed out of the elevator.

But the damn bomb was still ticking.

Two minutes.

"What do you want to do?" Hutch asked his partner. "We don't have time to call in the bomb squad. Do you know how to dismantle one of these things?"

"Missed that day in the army. Best shot is still down the elevator. The lead walls will contain it to some degree. We'll send it down to the garage and hope and pray there aren't many people down there."

"Sister, will you make an announcement that no one is to go near the service elevator." Hutch once again took charge in a commanding voice. The nun scurried over to the nurse's station to make the announcement while Hutch put the bomb in the elevator. He punched the button for the garage level. The doors to the cab closed.

The blond laid down on top of Jill to shield her from the effects of the explosion, ignoring the pain in both his leg and his arm.

There was no noise as the minutes ticked by.

Hutch glanced over at Starsky and pointed at his wrist to indicate he wanted to know the time. No matter what, Starsky would always wear his watch.

'_Right-now_' his partner answered in their silent communication.

The building shook briefly and tiles from the ceiling loosened and showered down on the people lying on the floor. If that's all the blast did, Hutch thought, we're damn lucky. Then silence reigned for several moments. The next thing they heard were sirens from black and whites fill the air as they came to a halt outside the hospital. A welcome, familiar gruff voice filtered through a bullhorn floated up to them:

"This is the police. The bomb has been contained. Is everyone all right?"

Dobey. It was Captain Dobey. He didn't know the how or why of it, but he was damned glad for his presence. The partners exchanged glances and grinned, then got up from the floor. Hutch helped Jill up while Starsky went to the window and opened it.

"We're ok, Cap'n." he hollered down.

"I'm coming up." Dobey replied. Starsky closed the window and turned around to move over to Hutch. But the Hutchinson's were engaged in a lip lock and embrace that didn't look like it was going to end anytime soon so he waited. When they finally parted, the dark haired man crossed over to his partner and draped his arm around the blond's shoulder. Hutch still had Jill hugged to his side. She was still shaking in fear, but, with her husband's arm around her, soon she relaxed and calmed down.

"Hey, we did it. Pulled it out of the fire again."

"Yeah. Like your gown, Starsk." he teased, then he became serious. "What's wrong with you?" Hutch's voice became concerned as he wiped sweat from Starsky's forehead. He was clucking again, his partner thought.

"Rosetti's goons shot me up with a pneumonia bacteria when they grabbed me. And before you start with your mother hen routine, Blondie, I'm getting better."

Before Hutch could say anything more, the nurses and others who had been involved in this situation came up to the detectives and thanked them for resolving it. Then they secured the scene and Starsky and an orderly put Rosetti's body on a gurney and covered it with a sheet. By that time Dobey came lumbering off the elevator and crossed over to Starsky and Hutch. The two detectives briefed him about what had happened, Rosetti's plan to blow himself up with Hutch and Jill, how the diversion Sister Esther created had allowed Starsky to shoot the mobster. Captain Dobey then told them he had sent the bomb squad out after Starsky left the hospital and that they had managed to contain the bomb before it went off, only slightly injuring two of the squad members.He also told them that Rosetti had Guitterez poisoned while he was in prison and that they had apprehended Witherspoon. He also told them they had found Rosetti's mole in the precinct: a lowly clerk who had bugged Dobey's phone. The crime scene boys appeared and started their job. The detectives told their story again and moved away from the scene. Then Sister Esther came over to Hutch. She noticed that the sling holding his left arm was stained with blood.

"Sergeant Hutchinson, you're bleeding."

Hutch had forgotten about pulling his stitches earlier. "Damn stitiches. You people need to invent some that won't tear."

"Yes, Sergeant. Let's get you back to your room to repair them. Then you need to rest."

"Sister, do you have an extra bed in that room?" Captain Dobey asked. "Sergeant Starsky here is sick with pneumonia. Can you admit him?"

"Yes, we have room--"

"No, Cap'n—I'm ok."

"You don't look ok."

"He's right, Starsk. You look terrible." Hutch chimed in. Starsky glared at him.

"Come on, detectives. To your room." Sister Esther took Starsky's arm while Jill guided her husband back to the room. As they walked down the corridor, the backs of their hospital gowns flapping, they were the object of many stares.

"Everybody's looking at you, Starsk." the blond said as he noticed the stares.

"Naw, they're lookin' at you, Blondie."

They bickered all of the way to the Hutchinson's room.

Jill just shook her head and rolled her eyes.


	10. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Jill? Where's my wife?" Hutch asked the red headed nurse as he looked around the room for Jill after waking up from his nap. He could smell the food before he saw it on the tray in front of him so he guessed it was around dinnertime.

"The doctor sent her home. She'll be back tonight to see you."

"Why did he send her home?" Then he remembered the fainting incident this morning. "Oh, God, she fainted. What happened? Tell me what happened!" Hutch was agitated again as he tried to sit up in the bed. His face contorted as both the leg and shoulder wound sent shafts of pain through his body.

"Sergeant Hutchinson, calm down." the nurse came over and helped him sit up. "I'll page the doctor and he'll give you the whole story." she went to the intercom and paged the doctor. He came into the room a few moments later.

"You're awake, Sergeant. You are looking much better."

"Yeah, yeah. Cut the pleasantries. What's wrong with my wife? Why did she faint?"

"She was exhausted."

"Exhausted?" Hutch echoed.

The doctor told Hutch what Jill had told him about working late and not being able to sleep, then her long hours here at the hospital since Hutch had been shot.

"But she was always asleep when I got home."

"Mrs. Hutchinson said she'd wake up and couldn't get back to sleep."

"Oh, God, why didn't I see that?" Hutch plowed a hand through his blond hair. "I should have seen it. Did you give her something?"

The doctor nodded. "Stronger sleeping pills than I gave her the other day. I ordered her to go home and rest. She will only be allowed to see you during evening visiting hours. She's to sleep during the day. Your dark haired friend promised he would make sure she did. He took her home."

"Yeah, Starsky will. Thank you, Doctor."

The doctor left the room and the nurse handed the fork to Hutch. "Enjoy your dinner."

She also left the room. But Hutch had lost his appetite. He pushed the food around on the plate as guilt ate at him. He should have seen it. No matter how busy he and Starsky had been on the Robinson case, he should have paid attention to his wife. Seen the dark smudges under her eyes. Seen the pinched look her face always had when she was overly tired. Noticed the tossing and turning as she laid beside him. He had been so exhausted himself every night after the stakeouts that he crawled into bed and slept like a hibernating bear. Ignoring her. But why hadn't she complained about it—told him she wasn't sleeping? Was it because she thought he had too much on his mind with the drug bust to bother him? He threw the fork down as he thought of something else. _You weren't there, Hutchinson. _ You barely saw her for almost a month, except for a weekly lunch date and for a few hours on the weekends. And there were more important things to talk about- or do-during those short hours. Her imsomnia was hardly something to bring up after they had quenched the hot flames of their passion. Hutch pushed the tray of food away and reached for the phone with his good arm, grimacing as the movement shot pain through his chest. He dialed his own number. After two rings, the phone was answered and Starsky's familiar voice floated through the wires.

"Hello? Hutchinson residence-"

Without even bothering with the usual pleasantries, Hutch said, "Starsk, put Jill on. I have to talk to her."

"Well, hello to you, too, Hutch." Starsky teased. "They're letting you use the phone. You must be feeling better."

"Starsky-put Jill on the phone."

"No can do, partner. She's sleeping. Doctor's orders. Hasn't he been in to talk to you yet?"

"Yeah, he told me. Exhaustion. Why didn't I see it, Starsk? How could I miss she was wearing herself out?"

"Ah-I knew you would do this to yourself."

"Do what?"

"Take a guilt trip."

"That's because I _am_ guilty!" Hutch yelled at his partner.

"You had other things on your mind—a big case." Starsky shot back.

"No! Nothing, not even a big case like the Robinson bust was, should come before Jill."

"It don't work that way, buddy—not in our line of work. Come on, Hutch, she knows she's gonna come second sometimes. She understands that." Starsky replied quietly. He wasn't going to tell Hutch about Jill's outburst on this very subject. "I didn't see it either, partner. I've been with her for the past four days. I should have seen it, too."

Hutch ran his hand through his blond hair and sighed. "Just tell her—I'm sorry."

"You two can work it out when we come in tonight."

"How is she, Starsk-really?" Hutch knew he would get an honest answer from his partner. Starsky had never lied to him.

"She's sleeping well. A few days of rest and I think she'll be fine. Don't worry. I'll take care of her. I promised you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Thanks, buddy."

"See ya tonight."

Hutch hung up the phone and took another shot at his dinner. Since he wouldn't have anything else to do until visiting hours tonight, he thought he might as well eat. Then he knew the nurse would be in to give him a shot of the pain killer that would put him to sleep again. Eat and sleep. That would be his life for the next few days since his visits with Jill were now limited. He didn't like it, but that was the way it had to be. He didn't want to jeopardize Jill's health anymore. He ate a few more bites and then pushed the tray away again. He lowered himself to the bed carefully and waited for the nurse.

But even after dinner that night, Jill and Starsky did not show up during visiting hours. About 9:30 Hutch dialed his number again and Starsky answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Why are you still home? You were supposed to come and see me." the blond man sounded so much like a little boy whose parents had broken a promise to him that Starsky had to stifle a laugh.

"Sorry, Hutch. Jill's still asleep and I ain't gonna wake her up. She needs to rest."

"I know." Hutch sighed. "I just—miss her."

"Hey, what about me?" the dark haired man asked in mock hurt.

"You? Oh, yeah, I miss you, too, Gordo."

"Look, maybe the doctor will let us come in the morning tomorrow. It's Saturday. I don't have to work. Well, actually, I do. Dobey put me on nights so I can be with Jill during the day. Oh, by the way, there were two feds in Dobey's office about Rogers."

"Oh, yeah? What did they want?"

"They're springing Rogers, Hutch. And to tell us they have him in protective custody. And to assure me that he wouldn't do anything stupid like come after us." Starsky snorted. "He won't do anything to jeopardize his deal. See, he can give them Reynoldo Rosetti."

Hutch whistled at that name. "Big fish, huh? And what is Rogers' deal?"

"They're charging him with assault with a deadly weapon for shooting you. And for the jail breaks. It's a joke, Hutch. He'll be out before we know it." It felt good to be discussing this with his partner, even if it was over the phone. This is the way they worked. "I pulled Rogers and Rosetti's sheets. The only thing they have in common is that one year in prison. But I have a bad feeling about the whole thing, Hutch. The feds have just wrapped it up _too_ neatly. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Have we worked with these feds before? Maybe they're on the take."

"No. These are two new guys. And they looked like the straight arrow feds we know and love." Starsky replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Their relationship with federal agents was rocky, at best, especially when they put guys like Rogers back out on the streets.

"Is there any connection between them and Rogers or Rosetti in their sheets?"

Starsky slapped his forehead at this oversight. "Why didn't I think of that? That's why I need you on this case with me, Hutch, to help me see things like that."

"No, you need me to do your job for you." the blond man teased him. "Go with your gut on this, Starsk. You've always had good instincts."

"But Dobey ain't gonna let me investigate a couple of feds without good reason."

"And when has that ever stopped you before?" Hutch snorted.

"Yeah, you're right. And if I can prove they are bad guys, too, then he can't get mad, right?" he sounded so much like a little boy rationalizing taking cookies out of a cookie jar when his mother told him no that Hutch started laughing, aggravating his shoulder wound.

"Right. Buddy, don't make me laugh. It hurts." he sucked his breath in to ease the pain.

"What did I do?" Starsky asked in all innocence. "That wasn't funny."

"The words weren't. It was the way you said them—like a little kid telling himself it was ok to take cookies from the cookie jar when his mother told him not to."

"Aw, Hutch, why'd you have to mention cookies? Now I'm hungry."

"You are always hungry. Didn't you have dinner?"

"Yeah. But that was hours ago. See you later, buddy. I gotta go eat."

"Let me know what you find out, huh?"

"I will. And Hutch-"

"Yeah?"

"Glad you're better, buddy. And I'm sorry about tonight."

"Yeah. Just take care of Jill. See you tomorrow."

Starsky pushed in the button to hang up from Hutch and dialed Dobey's number to tell him he wouldn't be in because Jill was still asleep. He hung up and went into the kitchen to take a beer out of the refrigerator and then made himself a sandwich. He watched the tail end of a drama show and then the early news while he ate, then checked on Jill. She was still sound asleep. He was glad to see that, even though it meant she wouldn't see Hutch tonight. Dave gathered up his plate and empty beer bottle and walked into the kitchen again to toss the bottle in the trash and put the plate in the sink. He returned to the living room and laid down on the sofa. Picking up the remote, he surfed through the channels until he found an old Bela Lugosi movie. When that was over, he found another monster movie—and fell asleep halfway through it.

Jill opened her eyes slowly and squinted at the clock on the dresser. 6:15. She squinted harder to see if it was morning or evening—she had no sense of how long she had been sleeping. It was morning. Jeez, she had slept for over 12 hours. And she had missed visiting hours at the hospital, missed seeing Hutch. Jill pushed back a lock of red gold hair that had fallen in her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand up. Still feeling a bit wobbly, she steadied herself on the nightstand. When she had her 'sea legs' again, Jill moved out of the bedroom and went into the living room. There she found Dave sprawled out on the sofa on his stomach, his dark head buried in one of the throw pillows. The TV was on, blaring early morning cartoons. He apparently had fallen asleep watching one of those monster movies he loved. She went over to the set and turned it off, then moved over to Dave and shook his shoulder.

"Huh-wha-?" he opened one blue eye and looked at her. "Wha'time is it?" he sat up and plowed a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up even more.

"A little after 6—Saturday morning. We slept through visiting hours last night. I better call Ken--"

"Don't haveta. He called last night when we didn't show. I told him I wasn't waking you up to take you to the hospital." he stifled a yawn.

"I can't believe I slept this long!"

"It was good for you." he saw that the dark smudges under her eyes were not so black and the pinched look on her face was not so noticeable.

Dave disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower while Jill fixed coffee, French toast and sausages for breakfast, then she took her shower and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. They left the apartment to go back to the hospital. They arrived around 9, but visiting hours didn't start until 10 so they had to cool their heels in the waiting room. The minute they were allowed in Hutch's room and he greeted them both, he then took his wife to task.

"Why in the hell didn't you tell me you weren't sleeping? When I came home at night, you were—or you were doing a damn good imitation of it."

"I probably was sleeping at the time, Ken. I'd wake up and couldn't get back to sleep, thinking about cases. And you looked so exhausted, I didn't want to bother you."

There it was, the reason Hutch dreaded she would give.

"Dammit, Jill! I don't care how tired I looked, you should have woke me up!" his voice softened. "I could have rubbed your back in the way that always puts you to sleep, hon." his blue eyes filled with tears. "Do you know how scared I was when I woke up and found you passed out on the floor? And I couldn't get to you?" he fumbled for her hand to take it into his good hand. "Don't ever do that to me again, okay? I don't want you to sacrifice your health to save mine."

"Ok. I'm sorry. You're right. I should have told you."

"It's not all your fault. I should have seen it, too. I was just too damn wrapped up in the Robinson case."

"Enough blaming. Just kiss and make up, you two." Starsky cut in, making his presence known. They had obviously forgotten he was still in the room.

"Come here, you--" Hutch pulled his wife down to him and kissed her. It was warm and full-full of forgiveness given and received. They parted, but Hutch still clung to her hand. He looked at her closely now, seeing the same thing Starsky had seen earlier. The dark smudges under her eyes were not so dark and the pinched look of her face was almost gone.

"You look more rested, babe."

"So do you. Maybe it's better that we didn't come around last night."

"No way. I missed you."

Just then the doctor came into the room and moved over to the bed. He glanced at Hutch's chart, then put it back in its holder.

"You are making excellent progress, Sergeant Hutchinson."

"Does that mean I can go home?"

The doctor smiled. "Not yet, I'm afraid. You'll stay with us for the rest of the weekend. You may be released Monday or Tuesday."

Hutch groaned. "Come on, doc. That's forever."

"It's only two more days, Ken." Jill pointed out. "Dave and I will be right here to get you through it."

"No, Mrs. Hutchinson. You are still on your restricted visiting schedule." he told her sternly, shaking a finger at her. "I'm telling you this so you would rest easier. But you are still going to rest. You look better today, but I still want you to take your pills until Tuesday—like I told you before. If we have to, we'll call in a home nurse to take care of both of you in the overlap. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Jill replied meekly, thoroughly chastened. The doctor left the room and Jill and Starsky and Hutch talked for another four hours.

"I really hate this. You have to go." Hutch said as he squeezed Jill's hand after the nurse came in to tell them visiting hours were over—and gave the blond man another shot of pain killer.

"I know, babe, so do I." Jill replied, leaning over to kiss him. He held her there for a moment, deepening the kiss so she knew he wasn't giving in to their forced separation without a fight. When she pulled away, her breath came in deep gulps.

"When I get out of here, we'll finish what we started-" he whispered to her, his blue eyes flashing with passion. "Even with this bum arm." Jill merely nodded, her green eyes gleamed with desire, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, hon." she squeezed his hand once more.

"See ya, buddy-" Starsky moved behind Jill and squeezed Hutch's right shoulder.

"Let me know what you find out-"

Jill and Starsky left the hospital and headed for the Hutchinson apartment. Dave stayed with her throughout the rest of the day to make sure Jill took her sleeping pills and slept, then he returned to the precinct around 5. His first stop was R and I where he pulled Rogers and Rosetti's files again, then took them up to the squad room to sit down and peruse them more closely. He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. There was nothing there-no mention of either Guitterez or Witherspoon being involved in either Rogers or Rosetti's cases.

But he could continue his work from yesterday so he called Marshall, the other officer listed on the arrest report for Rosetti's drug bust. Marshall told him the same thing Ritterman did, but he added a detail Starsky wasn't expecting.

"Ask your partner about this arrest. He was in on it."

"Hutch? Are you sure?" the dark haired man couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I may not remember a lot of things, but I do remember that. He was still in uniform. He was partnered with Ritterman, I think. Have you talked to him yet?"

"Yeah. I called him yesterday. He said Hutch was with Corlew, though."

"That's right. He was. I guess my memory is failing me a little."

"Hutch never mentioned that bust to me, even then. I wonder why?"

"Don't know that, Starsky. My memory does fail me in the details of the bust. You'll have to read the report."

"Thanks, Marshall." Starsky hung up the phone and plucked his jacket from the back of the chair to shrug it on as he hurried from the squad room.

All the way to the hospital Starsky thought about Hutch's lapse of memory concerning Rosetti. Why hadn't he told him about Reynoldo? Hutch had a good memory-he remembered things that had happened in the academy that Starsky had completely forgotten about- so it seemed to Starsky that when he mentioned Rosetti by name, Hutch would have made the connection to that first drug possession bust. When he arrived at the hospital, the dark haired man parked, then took the elevator up to the 4th floor. At the nurse's station, he looked for the red headed nurse, but she wasn't there. So he caught the attention of a pretty blond and flashed his badge at her.

"Dave Starsky. Police business. I need to see Detective Hutchinson right away."

"He was sleeping the last time I checked, Sergeant Starsky."

"Can we check again? I really need to talk to him."

Starsky followed the nurse down the hall to 414 and held the door open for her, then went into the room behind her. He could see from the door that his partner was asleep.

"How long ago did you give him the pain killer?"

The nurse consulted Hutch's chart, hanging on the end of the bed. "About 3:30."

Starsky looked at his watch. It was a little before 6. If he was true to form, Hutch would probably wake up within the next hour. "Can I stay with him?"

"I don't know—" the nurse hesitated.

"Look, I'm not here as his friend right now." Starsky reminded her, pulling out his badge again. "This is police business."

"Then I guess it's all right."

The dark haired man sat down in the chair where he had spent a good deal of time over the past few days and watched Hutch. He looked so much better now than he had only a couple of days ago. His face had more color and the pinched look from the pain was gone now. Starsky knew his partner would be groggy when he woke up and it might take a while for Hutch to remember anything about Rosetti's son, but that feeling that had continued to gnaw at him had grown stronger. The feeling that it wasn't Joe Rogers they had to worry about coming after Hutch and Jill—it was Reynoldo Rosetti. But Starsky couldn't figure out why Rosetti had waited 12 years-and he still didn't really know how Rogers fit into this. Had the whole hostage situation at the Rogers' house really been an elaborate set-up to kill Hutch at Rosetti's demand? And what did those federal agents have to do with it? The questions he couldn't answer started to give Starsky a headache.

Soon Starsky heard the familiar moan of a Hutch waking up. He rose from his chair and went over to his partner.

"Hey, buddy-" he squeezed the blond man's shoulder.

"Hi, Starsk-where's Jill?"

"Still home. Sleeping. Remember she's limited to only one visit a day."

Oh, yeah. Then what are you doing here?"

"You, partner, have become part of my investigation into Rosetti." he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What are you talking about? I don't know anything about Rosetti." Hutch attempted to sit up. Starsky helped him when he saw a grimace of pain cross the blond man's face.

"That's not what the reports I've been reading say. You were in on his first bust for drug possession. You, Corlew, Marshall and Ritterman. About 12 years ago? You were still in uniform?" the dark haired man was trying to give Hutch as many clues as he could to help jog his memory.

"Starsk, I don't-"

"I know you're still a little groggy right now, but please try to remember-anything-"

"Starsky-" Hutch was becoming annoyed at his partner's persistence. The blond man tried to cut through the cobwebs still clogging his mind and wrap his thoughts around the days when he was still in uniform-out with Corlew. Then all of a sudden the memories did come flooding back. "Oh, my God! I had completely forgotten! I was there-" he still struggled to recall the details. "I couldn't believe Rosetti would bring his kid along. He had to be only 13 or 14."

"Fifteen-" Starsky supplied. "He was selling on the campus at Riverview."

"That's right. But the kid didn't go by Rosetti. It was a different name. Santini-no-uh-San-no-Suarez! That was it. Orlando Suarez. He was still hanging on to his father when we carted Rosetti away. If he was only 15, then he would have been a juvenile. Those records would be sealed Starsk."

"I know. They are. What else do you remember?"

"He went back into the joint when he was 18 or 19. That was Ritterman and Marshall's bust, I think. Then he was killed in a knife fight in prison a year after that."

"Okay, you just corroborated Marshall's and Ritterman's stories. Now did Rosetti threaten you in any way?"

"Yeah, I think he breathed a few threats against all of us. Blaming us because his kid was killed in jail. But I didn't have anything to do with putting Suarez in jail the second time, Starsk. Why would Rosetti blame me for that? And why would he wait this long to get back at me?"

"I haven't figured that one out yet. And I also don't know how Rogers figures into this either. But I think it's enough to bring to Dobey for protection for you—and Jill."

Hutch's face drained of all color. "Jill? You think he'd go after Jill?"

"What better way to get back at you, Hutch." Starsky's voice and eyes became misty as he remembered the time when Purdholm had taken something very precious away from him-Terry- just because she was his girl. Hutch saw the look on his partner's face and lifted his good hand to squeeze his shoulder. He instinictively knew his partner was thinking about Terry. Starsky cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Just as a precaution, I'll have Dobey put a uniform outside your apartment."  
"Call him—right now." Hutch grabbed for the phone, ignoring the pain in his left shoulder that movement caused.

"Hutch, he'll want more than my word for it. I'll need to show him the reports."

"Then I'll tell him! Dammit, Starsky, this is my _wife_ we're talking about. And right now she's as vulnerable as I am. Resting at home. He could easily break in and--" his voice trailed off as unspeakable visions of what Rosetti could do to Jill as she lay sleeping filled his mind.

"All right, all right. I'll do it." Starsky grabbed the phone and punched in Dobey's home number. After three rings, the familiar gruff voice came through the wires.

"Yeah. Dobey."

"Cap'n, Starsky. We could have a problem--" that's as far as he got. Hutch snatched the phone away from his partner.

"Cap'n, Hutch." the blond man told his superior of their suspicions about Rosetti. "Send a black and white over to our apartment. 343 Bayview." Force of habit made him give the address.

"I know your address, Hutchinson!" Dobey bellowed. "But there's really nothing we can do. There haven't been any overt threats made."

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?!" Hutch shouted into the phone. "We're talking about my _wife_ here, Cap'n. There _damn_ well better be something we can do."

"Don't you think I know that, Hutchinson. But you know as well as I do how the law reads. We can't do a thing unless there's been some kind of threat."

Whatever else Captain Dobey was going to say was lost. Hutch threw down the phone and swung his legs over the edge of the bed in an attempt to stand up.

"I'll have to call you back, Cap'n." Starsky said into the phone as he picked it up and slammed the receiver back into the cradle harder than he meant to. "Just where do you think you're going?" the dark haired man addressed his blond partner as Hutch started to shuffle toward the bathroom.

"My clothes. Where are my clothes?" Hutch ignored his partner's question-and tried to ignore the pain that shot up his leg. His legs buckled under his weight. He was still so weak. Starsky grabbed his arm-his left one because it was the closest -and another bolt of pain shot up and down that arm. This time Hutch cried out and clenched his teeth. He nearly collapsed in his partner's arms, but Hutch kept on going. "Where are my damn clothes? I have to get to Jill."

"You ain't goin' nowhere, buddy." he tried to get Hutch back over to the bed, but the blond man threw his arms out with an adrenalin surge to throw his partner's arms off. Again pain radiated up and down his left arm.

"Let me go-Starsky!" Hutch protested.

"No- Hutch!" Starsky shot back as he managed to get the bigger man back to the bed and sat him down on the edge. Then Dave noticed blood staining Hutch's hospital gown near his leg wound. Starsky lifted the gown up and saw that in their struggle Hutch had again torn the stitches out. "You keep tearing out your stitches, you big lummox, and you'll never get out of the hospital." Starsky held his still struggling partner and pushed the nurse call button. When the disembodied voice asked what he needed, the curly headed man answered, "Sergeant Hutchinson has torn out his stitches again." he thought he heard a soft sigh from the nurse. Yeah, I feel the same way, he thought. The door opened a moment later and the red headed nurse came in with the suture materials and a syringe of pain killer.

"What happened this time?"

"He got up and went for his clothes. He wanted to get out of here to get to his wife."

When Hutch heard that, he murmured, "Jill-" and continued to murmur her name. His blue eyes were glassy and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. The struggle with Starsky had completely sapped his strength. At least he was too worn out to try to escape the hospital again, the dark haired man thought. This time when the nurse examined the wound and wiped away the blood, she noticed redness had set in around it.

"I think it's infected this time. Okay, Sergeant Hutchinson, let's lay down." With Starsky's help she lowered the blond man to the bed and pulled out the remaining stitches. Hutch winced, but didn't cry out. Instead he curled up in a fetal position as if to ward away the pain. Starsky placed his hand on Hutch's good shoulder to calm him.

"It's okay, Hutch. You're gonna be ok. I'm here, buddy."

"Detective, you need to straighten your legs. Come on." the nurse pulled on his long legs so they reached to the end of the bed. She sutured up the leg wound again, plunged the syringe into Hutch's hip, then took out a thermometer from her pocket and stuck it under Hutch's tongue. After a few minutes she withdrew it and read the results. "101. Just as I thought. He'll need another round of antibiotics. I'll page the doctor. He might want to see this." She went to the intercom and called the doctor. He was there in a few minutes, coming over to the bed.

"What happened?" The nurse told him and the doctor lifted Hutch's gown to examine the wound. For the first time Starsky realized that Hutch was probably mortified to have himself exposed like this--the wound was in a place that necessitated it. The curly haired cop draped the gown in such a way that covered Hutch, earning him a puzzled look from the nurse.

"I've seen them before, Sergeant--" she said matter-of-factly.

"Give the man some dignity, huh?" Starsky grinned at her and shrugged his shoulders, At least he had done what he could for his partner.

"What is his temp?" the doctor asked the nurse.

"101. Do you want me to call Mrs. Hutchinson?"

The doctor hesitated, seeming to contemplate the question whether it was really necessary for Jill to be here. He really wanted her to rest. The doctor slowly shook his head. "If it goes any higher, call her. With the new round of antibiotics, it should come down quickly. If it doesn't come down, page me again."

"Yes, Doctor."

"I'll stay with him." Starsky said.

The nurse and doctor nodded in acknowledgment and they both left the room. Starsky went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth to bring back out to Hutch and put it on his forehead to cool him down. The blond man lifted his good arm and placed his hand over his partner's.

"Jill?"

"Wrong- it's me, Blintz."

"Starsk?"

"Yeah?"

"Jill?"

"She's safe, Hutch." For now anyway, he hoped. He was sure Dobey had done the least he could and ordered some black and whites to patrol around the Hutchinson's apartment complex, even if he couldn't order a stakeout to watch the place.

"Starsky?" Hutch was so exhausted from the exertion of getting out of bed and struggling with Starsky that the pain killer seemed to take immediate effect.

"Yeah, Blondie-?"

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep now." he sounded so much like a little boy that Starsky had to smile.

"You do that, Hutch."

The blond man closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep. The nurse returned to the room and added the antibiotic to the I-V.

"He'll probably sleep through the night. Why don't you go home and get some rest yourself?" the nurse told the dark haired man.

"No, I'll stay until the fever breaks."

He fell into the chair again and waited. After a while his eyes closed of their own volition.

About two hours later the nurse came in and took the blond man's temperature again. It had returned to normal. She shook Starsky's shoulder and he was immediately awake. "Wha-?Hutch?"

"Sergeant Hutchinson's temperature is normal, Detective Starsky. Go home now."

The dark haired man shook his head. "I'll be at the Hutchinson's."

Starsky left the hospital and headed the Torino for the Hutchinson's apartment.

Meanwhile Jill sat on the sofa, mindlessly watching TV, not even seeing the cop show she had tuned in. Maybe I should just take my sleeping pill and go to bed, she thought. Jill rose from her seat and turned the TV off, then headed for the kitchen where she had left her sleeping pills when the phone rang. As it always did these days, her heart jumped into her throat as she answered. She was afraid it was the hospital, telling her about another complication in Hutch's recovery. She turned around and went back to the sofa to sit down and sweep the receiver up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jill-" her mother's familiar voice came through the wires. Of course. Her parents' weekly call. It was after 10 their time in Chicago. Her father liked to call late to get the lower rates.

"Hi, Mama-"

Maeve Sutherland knew immediately that something was amiss with her daughter. Jill hadn't called her 'Mama' in years-and it was a name she usually used when she was scared. "What's wrong? Ken? Do I need to come out there?"

"No, Mom, you don't need to come out here. Yes, it's Ken. He was shot during a domestic dispute a few days ago."

"A few days ago? And we're just hearing about it now?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call before, but I've been at the hospital most of the time." Jill suddenly felt very guilty. She should have told her parents about this sooner. They liked Ken, welcoming him into their family as their own from the very first time he had met them because they knew he was basically estranged from his own parents. Before Mrs. Sutherland could say anything else, another extension was picked up and her father's voice floated through the wires.

"Hi, Sprite-" Tom Sutherland used his favorite nickname for his oldest daughter. "What's this about Ken?"

"He was shot-in the thigh and the shoulder. The thigh wound was really serious for a while. It nicked the femoral artery. He lost a lot of blood. Then he was unconscious longer than they thought he should be, but he finally woke up—and then the thigh wound became infected. He's okay now. It's just been a rough few days."

"Oh, Jill-" Mrs. Sutherland's father had been a cop so she knew about the dangers. "How are you holding up, honey?"

"It's been scary, Mom, but I'm learning to handle it. I'm okay. I can only see him once a day, though. I fainted from exhaustion. I'd been working a lot of nights for the past month and not sleeping very well. Then this thing with Hutch happened..."

"Jill, you have to take care of yourself, for Ken's sake." her mother scolded. "Are you sure you don't want me to come out there? I can be on a plane tomorrow."

"No, Mom. The doctor gave me some sleeping pills and I've been sleeping during the day. Dave's been taking care of me. He promised Ken he would and you know what a promise means between them."

"Yes, I do-" Jill could hear the smile in her mother's voice. They chatted for several minutes, then suddenly there was a pounding on the front door of the apartment. "Mom, just a minute. There's someone at the front door."

Jill put down the phone and rose from the sofa to cross over to the door. "Who is it?" she asked cautiously.

"It's the calvary. Hutch sent me." Dave's familiar voice came through the door. Jill smiled and opened it to let her husband's partner in.

"Hi, Dave. Come on in. I'm on the phone with my parents."

"Oh, well, tell them hello for me." Starsky walked into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Jill returned to the sofa while Dave crossed over to the kitchen to see what was in the refrigerator in the form of a beverage. She picked up the phone again and swept the receiver up to her ear.

"Sorry, Mom. It's Dave."

"Oh? Put him on so we can say hello."

Jill held out the receiver in Starsky's direction as he took a beer out of the 'fridge. "They want to say hello."

He nodded and moved over to Jill to take the phone from her. He balanced the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he twisted the top off the beer. "Hi, Mrs. Suther-uh, Maeve-" Starsky corrected himself, remembering that Jill's mother had insisted he call her by her first name. "Hello, Mr. Sutherland." Jill's father had made no such request.

"Hello, Dave. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected. Has Jill told you about Hutch?"

"Yes, just now." They chatted for a few minutes, then Dave said,

"I'll give you back to Jill."

Starsky handed the receiver back to Jill and dropped down on the sofa next to her. He took a swig of his beer as Jill continued her conversation with her parents.

"So how are things in Chicago? How are Brian and Julie?" Jill asked about her older brother and younger sister. Her parents took turns telling stories about her siblings and their families for several more minutes, then Mrs. Sutherland said:

"Well, we'll hang up now, honey. You need to get your rest. Tell Ken we're thinking about him-and we love him. I love you, Jill."

"Love you too, Mom-Daddy. 'Bye."

Jill pushed down the disconnect button and started to punch in another number, telling Starsky, "I need to call the hospital."

"No, you don't. I just came from there." he ran his hand through his dark hair.

Jill hung up the phone. "Then how is he?"

"His leg became infected again and he developed a slight fever. They gave him a round of antibiotics." He didn't tell her the reason why the leg became infected—and he hoped against hope she wouldn't ask. Starsky didn't want to worry her about the threat Rosetti could pose to her and Hutch. God knew she had enough to worry about with Hutch.

"A fever?" Jill became alarmed. "How high was it? Why wasn't I called?"

"It was 101—and the doctor didn't think it warranted a call. I think he was more concerned about you resting. The fever came down in a couple of hours. He's okay, Jill."

Jill nodded in acknowledgment as she yawned, so tired suddenly that she didn't think to ask about what had caused this latest infection, just like Starsky hoped. He continued, "Have you taken your sleeping pill?"

"Not yet." She crossed over to the kitchen and picked up the bottle from the counter. She shook a pill into her hand and then chased it down with a glass of water. "Good night, Dave."

"'Night, Jill."

Jill walked down the hallway and into the master bedroom where she changed into her nightgown, then went into the bathroom to wash her face. Returning to the bedroom, she slid under the covers and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"I need to stop at the station to pick something up." Dave said as he and Jill were headed for the hospital the next morning. "Hutch gave me a lead yesterday."

"You two are going to talk business?"

"I'll keep it to a minimum, I promise. I just need to follow up."

"Okay." Jill replied, as she munched on a granola bar for breakfast, trying not to let the crumbs fall on the seat of the Torino. She knew the dark haired man did not like messes in his car. Starsky pulled into his usual space in front of the Metro and they both got out. They entered the station and took the stairs up to the squad room. Starsky crossed over to his desk and found the file he wanted, then said, "I'm gonna make a copy. I'll be right back." He turned around to head for the double doors of the squad room when Jill's trembling voice from behind him stopped Starsky in his tracks.

"D-D-Dave? L-look!"


	11. Chapter 11

EPILOGUE (with a slight nod to the Survival tag)

_Two weeks later_

"Ready to go home, hon? Do you have everything?" Jill asked, standing next to the wheelchair as the nurse settled Hutch into it. He grabbed his wife's hand with his left hand—with some preliminary therapy he now had some range of motion, but more therapy was needed, of course—and raised the crutch they had given him with his right.

"I got you and I got my crutch. That's all I need." he tugged on her hand and she bent down so he could press his lips against hers. When they parted, the nurse started to push the wheelchair toward the front door of the hospital. "Where's Starsky?" the blond asked as he suddenly realized there was someone missing in this little going-home party.

"He had to stop and pick something up."

Starsky had been released from the hospital last week, the infection gone from his lungs. He had been cleared to go back to work next week, on desk duty until Hutch was able to come back.

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

As the nurse wheeled them toward Jill's Mustang parked in the front row, they heard the screech of tires as the Torino took a corner too fast and slammed to a halt in front of them. The dark haired half of the dynamic duo threw himself out of the car and circled it to cross over to the blond half. Starsky had an untidily wrapped package in his hand which he thrust at his partner.

"Here--"

Hutch looked up at him and then down at the package. He unwrapped it—to find another ceramic pig in the white paper.

"Oh, Starsk, thank you. I love it! It's just what I need to put on my desk."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that."


End file.
